Dangerous Legacy (10 page)

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Flint wrap both hands around his mug and lean forward, elbows and forearms resting on the table. “What happened tonight?”

“I’m sure Harlan has already told you,” she replied, making a face. “I probably couldn’t sneeze without you showing up to hand me a hanky.”

“That’s because I care, Maggie. We both do.”

Flint hadn’t moved, yet seemed closer somehow. She nodded. “I’m getting that idea.”

A snort of amusement from the older man didn’t help Maggie’s mood. When she tried to glare at him and saw his comical expression, she found herself snickering instead.

“All right, all right.” She took a sip of coffee and leaned back in her chair to claim a little distance. “The sheriff has the mistaken idea I may have imagined it, but I know I didn’t. Wolfie went nuts and Mark said he saw somebody, too.”

“Did he recognize the prowler?”

She made a face at Flint before replying, “No. But he did tell me later that the guy was ugly. Wolfie charged at him, sounding like he was about to eat him for supper, and the man knocked me down in his rush to get away. That’s what made the dog’s paw start bleeding again.”

Tension radiated from the game warden. “You think this prowler was after the boy?”

“I don’t know. If he didn’t know the layout of the house, he might have just been exploring.” It had already occurred to her that Abigail’s niece and nephew had probably visited as children, if not as adults, and she had to quell a shiver. “As soon as Wolfie alerted, somebody in a black hoodie pushed past me and hightailed it.”

“How did he get in?”

She slid lower in her chair. “That was my fault. After you went out the back door, I was so...distracted... I guess I forgot to lock the front again.”

“You don’t have a regular routine? Unbelievable.”

“Don’t raise your voice to me, Flint Crawford. Of course I have a routine. I always go around and check all the doors and windows before I go to bed.”

“But not this time.”

“No. Not this time.”

“Harlan said a lamp was broken.” He glanced at the sheriff. “Right? If the guy touched it, there might be prints.”

The older man huffed. “Nope. That was Maggie’s weapon. She’s the one who dropped it.”

Flint rounded on her. “A lamp? That’s almost as useless as a rotten limb.”

Judging by the firm set of his jaw and glint in his eyes, Flint was growing angrier by the minute. “Serves me right for telling you anything,” she countered. “Be sure to put plenty of syrup on your pancakes, Warden Crawford. You need a lot of sweetening.”

“And you need to learn to shoot,” he called after her.

Maggie whirled. “I help injured creatures, I don’t harm them. I don’t even like to step on bugs—and this is Arkansas, so there are plenty of those. Why would I want to shoot a gun?”

“Self-defense, if nothing else. You’re out here in the middle of nowhere with no protection.”

“He’s got a point there,” the sheriff said. “Until we figure out why all these crazy things have been happening to you, it makes sense to take precautions.”

“I trust God. That’s all I need.” Maggie turned her back to them.

Flint wasn’t about to back down. “Oh, really?”

Maggie could tell he was coming closer, because his aura preceded him. Tiny hairs on her arms prickled and a shiver zinged up her spine.

“Do you trust God or are you tempting Him?” Flint asked. “He gave you brains. You’re supposed to use them to figure things out, such as who might have been prowling around in your house.”

Spinning around again, she found him standing directly behind her, so close they were almost touching. That was so unnerving, she spoke before thinking. “If I’d used my brains in the past, I’d have listened to my parents and stayed away from you.”

Hostility that had been sparking between them suddenly vanished like smoke. She saw a flash of pain that he failed to hide quickly enough. The green eyes began to glisten and their emotional reaction reached all the way to Maggie’s tender heart.

She touched his arm. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yes, you should. You’re right. We were wrong for each other in so many ways. But we were young and foolish. We thought we were in love.”

We were,
she countered silently, unwilling to break eye contact or step away.

“I’m sorry for all you had to go through,” Flint whispered, bending even closer.

Their lips were mere inches apart. Was he going to kiss her? Did she want him to? What should she do if he did? With the sheriff in the room, there was no chance Flint would assume she was going to swoon and fall into his arms, so it was probably okay to accept one kiss. Just one, though. For old times’ sake and to heal the distress she’d just caused him. It had not been her intention to hurt his feelings. If there had been a way to snatch back her caustic comment about their failed relationship, she would have.

Her eyelashes fluttered. Her lids lowered partway. Maggie held her breath and waited.

The moment passed. Flint strode to the table and picked up the mugs, behaving as if nothing special had happened between them. “Okay. So far we know the prowler was ugly. That fits half the guys in Serenity, if you ask me. Any other ideas, Sheriff?”

“I still have my officers looking for clues along the highway where Maggie wrecked, and you put your guys on the wolf ruse, right?”

“Right. Looks like that’s a dead end. Nobody found signs of a pack of wolves in the area.” He lifted the coffeepot. “Refill anybody?”

If Maggie hadn’t had the kitchen counter to lean against, she might have staggered. Her equilibrium was certainly upset. And her pride was in shambles. When she should be celebrating a narrow escape from Flint’s unwanted advances, she was actually so disappointed she could have wept.

She grabbed a whisk and took her frustrations out on the pancake batter. Those were the lightest, fluffiest hotcakes she’d ever made.

TEN

B
y the time Flint had endured breakfast at Maggie’s, he was ready for one of Ira’s daily naps. Instead, his assignment took him up on Nine Mile Ridge to check a report of white-tail deer poachers who had left behind everything from the animals except tenderloin. It was disgusting. He was still muttering about wasteful gluttons when he got back to regional headquarters in Mammoth Spring to handle the pile of paperwork that had accumulated. Clearly, he had been spending too much time in Serenity.

Wardens Samson and Wallace both looked up when he entered, greeted him, then found reasons to immediately head for the break room. As Samson passed he cocked his head toward the private office of Captain Lang. That was not a good sign. Neither was the sight of Lang standing in his doorway, beckoning.

Flint hitched his duty belt and stood tall. He hadn’t worked out of this office long enough to know the captain well, but it was pretty clear that the man had something serious to say.

“Yes, sir?”

Lang closed his office door. “Have a seat.”

Flint assumed he was about to receive a reprimand and was surprised when his superior didn’t launch into a tirade.

“How are you coming with the Morgan woman? Have you asked her how we can locate Witherspoon?”

“I did bring it up. She wasn’t cooperative in the least and I haven’t managed to pin her down since.”

“Well, work through your problems with her and get us some answers. I took a chance sending you over there without backup because I thought I could trust you. Don’t disappoint me.”

“I won’t,” Flint promised. “He’s a recluse. Without specific information we might never run across him. He knows that backcountry better than anybody.”

Leaning back in his desk chair, Lang appeared to be mulling over a decision. When he said, “I’ll give you one more week. Finish this,” Flint’s heart sank.

“Do whatever it takes. I want to close Elwood’s file for good.”

“There’s something you should know,” Flint explained. “Maggie and I have both suffered unprovoked attacks since I came back.” He pointed to a stack of forms in the captain’s in-box. “I reported shots being fired at me several times. And Maggie was run off the road and her place was broken into.”

“What makes you think there’s a connection?”

This was the first test, Flint realized, his chance to own up to his past mistakes. “Because she and I have a connection. We have a son.”

“Whoa.” Lang’s eyebrows rose. “That’s not in your personnel file.”

“I just found out,” Flint said with a deep sigh.

“Talk about complications.”

“Yeah.” Flint rose and began to pace the small office. “And that’s not all. There’s also an old feud between the Crawfords and the Witherspoons to consider. That’s one of the reasons it never worked out between Maggie and me. Our extended families hated each other. As far as I know, though, the only old-timer who is still likely to stir up trouble is Elwood. Maybe if I can prove enough to land him in jail for poaching it’ll solve both our problems.”

Lang steepled his fingers. “I can always put Samson or Wallace on it instead.”

“That won’t help. There’s no way I can stop being involved,” Flint said flatly. “Even if I transferred out tomorrow, Maggie might still be in danger, not to mention our little boy, Mark.”

Nodding, the captain said, “All right. We’ll work with what we have. What’s your plan?”

If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Flint might have laughed. “Plan? So far I’ve been a step behind whoever is harassing us since this whole thing started.”

“You’ve brought in local police?”

“Yes. Right away. Maggie lives in the county and the sheriff has been a lot of help.”

“How about city or state police?”

“I’d rather not involve too many more departments until I get a better handle on the situation,” Flint said. “Some of the suspects are good old boys with hunting in their blood. They know every inch of the woods around Serenity. I’d hate to feel responsible for getting some street cop hurt just because he’s used to paved roads and sidewalks.”

“
Some
of the suspects? Who else?”

“There are a couple of people who have a financial ax to grind regarding the Dodd Sanctuary. They made actual threats against Ms. Morgan.”

“Okay. Keep me posted.” He gestured at the overflowing in-box. “If anything else happens, report directly to me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Just don’t blow it.” Lang was scowling. “I’m nearing retirement age and I don’t want to lose my pension over you and your girlfriend.”

Flint opened his mouth to insist that Maggie wasn’t his girlfriend, then changed his mind. Whether she was or not, she was still in someone’s crosshairs. That was all that mattered. That, and keeping her and Mark safe.

Nothing critical lay beyond those goals.

* * *

The next couple of days passed in a blur for Maggie. She went through the motions of caring for her animals and getting her son to and from school safely, but she could not seem to relax. Mostly, she kept waiting for the next disaster to occur.

When she spotted someone in dirty camo working his way through the woods behind her compound, she figured he was bringing trouble. By the time she recognized her fifteen-year-old cousin, Robbie, she was so tense she was ready to make a dash for the house.

He casually raised an arm. Relieved, Maggie waved back and called, “Hi. You looking for work? I could use more firewood split.”

The youth shrugged. “Sure. I guess.”

“What’s wrong, Robbie?”

He scuffed the toe of his worn boot through loose leaves. “Nothin’. Just heading for town.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“Naw. Luke and Will are picking me up down by your mailbox in a little bit.”

Maggie was relieved the others would be stopping half a mile away. She trusted her youngest cousin, but the two older ones were too much like their grandfather. They reveled in causing mayhem and laughed while they watched others suffer. She’d seen them do it more than once.

Which reminded her... “Hey, Robbie, I’ve got a question for you.”

“Sure.”

“Do you know anything about the truck that ran me off the road last week?”

His shocked expression answered before he spoke. “What truck?”

“That’s what I was asking you. I was on my way to town and ended up in a ditch out by Anderson’s place.”

The tall, thin young man tugged his baseball cap lower over his forehead and shook his head. “Nope. First I’ve heard of it. Glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks.” She paused, giving herself time to choose her next words very carefully. “How about the shootings?”

This time, he averted his gaze. “Don’t know nothin’ about no shooting. I been trappin’.”

“All right. I just thought maybe Elwood had been messin’ with me. Trying to scare me.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because Flint Crawford is back,” Maggie told him, watching for signs that he already knew—and there they were. Robbie twitched and dropped his head forward to hide his face behind the bill of his cap while he kicked at more dry leaves.

“Here’s what I want you to do for me, Robbie,” she said. “Tell Uncle Elwood to leave me alone. Your brothers, too. I haven’t bothered any of you and I expect the same courtesy. All I’m trying to do here is help injured animals. Just because I happen to know a game warden does not make me your enemy. Got that?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He cast a furtive glance down at the dirt road. “I better get going. Luke’s driving and he won’t wait if I’m late.”

“What kind of truck has he got now?” Maggie didn’t figure the kid was naive enough to reveal anything criminal, but she had to try.

“A new Dodge.” Robbie finally smiled. “It’s a real sweet ride.”

“Is Will jealous?”

“Naw. He’s got him a three-quarter-ton Ford.”

“I suppose Elwood’s still driving that rusty old International?”

She saw Robbie stiffen. “Why?”

“Because the guy who ran me off the road was driving a dark-colored truck.”

“Ha! Then you can forget blamin’ my papaw. His truck is the same color it always was. Red.”

Maggie forced a smile. Between the oxidation of the paint and rust on the frame, it was still possible that her adversary had been Elwood.

She pictured the attack truck, idling on the shoulder of the highway. Robbie was right! That vehicle couldn’t have belonged to Elwood. If it had, she’d have noticed a lot more overall deterioration and less fresh damage.

“I apologize, Robbie,” she said. “You’re right. The truck that sideswiped me couldn’t have been the International. For one thing, the style was newer, more streamlined.”

Seeing his body language improve, she added, “Remember. Any time you want to come back and split me a rick or two of firewood, just do it and I’ll pay you. Same as last year.”

He smiled. “I’m a lot bigger than I used to be. Shouldn’t take me near as long.”

“It’s the finished product that matters,” Maggie assured him. “If predictions are right, we’re going to have a rough winter.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll do it right soon.”

“Is your papaw fixed for winter? The old cabin he favors leaks like a sieve.”

“Oh, he ain’t livin’ there no more. He’s got a place...” The teenager broke off with a stricken expression. “Gotta go.”

Watching him jog away down her unpaved driveway, Maggie pondered the unexpected modifications of her suspicions. As far as she was concerned, Luke and Will were suspects in the shootings because of their family ties to Elwood, but if they had been the attackers on the highway, they’d have had to borrow a different truck. She found that highly unlikely.

Of course, if she discounted the old feud, the wild shots could have come from anybody who happened to dislike game wardens. There were plenty of those folks around, ready to take a potshot any time they got the opportunity. Part of that attitude arose from a survival mind-set. There had been a time in the last century when the only way a man could feed his family was to hunt. In or out of season, deer, rabbits and even squirrels meant the difference between life and death. There was always somebody out hunting, legal or not. The only oddity was that other wardens hadn’t reported similar attacks recently.

Maggie shivered. The difference between life and death for her and her son might also be hanging in the balance. How could she protect Mark when she couldn’t put a face to her enemies?
Yes, plural
. The way she saw it, there had to be more than one person involved. And whoever was behind the unwarranted attacks was either a very bad shot or a very good one. She almost wished it was the latter. At least that way there would be less chance of accidentally being wounded.

Of course, that also meant the marksman could drop her in a heartbeat from the length of a football field.

She pulled her cell from her pocket and thumbed Faye’s number. “Hi, Mom. I need another favor.”

“As long as it includes my grandson, you have it.”

“Matter of fact, it does. Since it’s Friday, could you get Mark from school like you have been and keep him over the weekend?” She wanted to say
indefinitely
but thought better of it. One, she didn’t want to be separated from her little boy. And two, she didn’t want to frighten Faye. At present, it was enough to simply leave Mark with his grandma and go about her business at the sanctuary. If push came to shove she’d explain. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be necessary.

“My pleasure,” Faye said. “We’re still on for Sunday dinner after church, aren’t we?”

Maggie’s only uncertainty came from wanting to protect her loved ones. “Well, if I can work it out.”

“What’s to work out? You can meet me and Mark at church and we’ll all go out together, same as always.”

“How about a pizza this time?” Maggie knew she should break out of her normal rut as much as possible. “You go on home with Mark and I’ll stop to pick one up. We can eat at your house.”

Faye laughed lightly. “You aren’t fooling me, young lady. You just want to come over here to eat so you can lug that domesticated wolf along.”

“You’ve got me figured out,” Maggie replied. “But Wolfie really is a dog. I promise.”

“If you say so. I’m working in the church nursery this week. I’ll put Mark in his class before I start and you can get him after the service.”

“Um, no,” Maggie said, wondering how much she was eventually going to have to reveal. “I’d rather he stayed with one of us. That’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Sure, but—”

“I’ll explain everything over pizza.”

“You’d better. What about Saturday? Are you coming by at all?”

“That depends,” Maggie said.

“On what?”

“A lot of things.” Like whether or not she saw Flint and had a chance to talk him into accompanying her to the church they had once attended as a loving couple. She had persevered, repented and renewed her faith there years ago, but Flint had not. If he did go with her again, she wasn’t sure what kind of reception he’d get. Most members of the congregation were loving and forgiving, but they also thought of her as family, meaning they might stand against him if they thought he was going to hurt her again.

Her mind was so filled with memories she barely heard her mother bid her goodbye. Truth to tell, it didn’t matter if she and Flint rekindled their friendship as long as one of them was able to keep Mark safe from harm.

Even if it isn’t me? Yes,
she answered honestly. Flint would be a good father to the little boy. She’d known that the moment she saw them together. And she was ashamed of her initial jealousy. If her true concern was for Mark’s welfare, it shouldn’t matter who eventually raised him to adulthood.

Tears filled Maggie’s eyes. It shouldn’t. But it did. She desperately wanted to live a long and productive life. Who wouldn’t? Sometimes it seemed really unfair when mean old codgers like Elwood and Ira reached a ripe old age while younger folks passed away. Then again, terrible sadness could bring eventual joy and acceptance the way her pregnancy had. What had seemed the worst event in her life had turned out to be the biggest blessing, meaning she should learn to trust God and rely more on Jesus, as her pastor often preached.