Stalked In Conard County. Rachel LeeЧитать онлайн книгу.
as a piece of metal duct slipped and sliced his finger. Being experienced with home repair—his own and Flora’s—he’d come prepared and was able to get a bandage out of his tool kit.
He liked this kind of work. It used his body and mind in a different way from saddlery, gave him a different kind of workout. It was almost fun. Well, mostly fun, especially as a change of pace. There were occasional tasks that were just plain irritating, but most of the time he liked working with his hands.
Finally he had to call it quits for the day. He needed an elbow joint and another three more feet of ducting to make everything fit tightly. When he finished, he wanted the heat to come on without all that rattling. Yeah, the ductwork would tick as it heated, but it shouldn’t shake and bang as if it was about to fall apart.
Which it had been, he acknowledged as he packed up his tools. Flora had let it go way too long, probably because it had become background noise. Or maybe because she didn’t want to impose. God, he hoped not. He’d tried over the years to make it clear to her that he didn’t at all mind doing odd jobs around her house.
Roger supposed he needed to make that clear to Haley, too. If she didn’t hightail it back to Baltimore after last night.
He hoped she wouldn’t. He’d enjoyed their time together and, in the privacy of his own mind, he could even admit she was one sexy woman. Regardless of his own feelings, the decision would be hers, and he had the sense that right now she was fragile.
Well, why not?
Picking up his tool kit, he headed up the stairs and turned the lights off behind him. The basement stairs opened onto a mudroom just off the kitchen. As he walked through it, he saw Haley standing by the counter with a box in front of her.
“Find something interesting?” he asked.
She looked over her shoulder at him. “Photos. I’ve been pulling them out one at a time and trying to figure out who everyone is.”
“Oh, man,” he remarked. He put his kit on the floor against the wall and came to join her at the counter. A big stack of photos, all right, most of them black-and-white, indicating age.
She gave him a rueful smile. “Why don’t people ever think of labeling?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because the people at the time knew who everyone was. Why would they consider that fifty or more years down the road someone who hadn’t even been born yet might want to know?”
“Probably.”
He spied one that he recognized. “Hey, that’s my granddad. I didn’t know Flora had that.”
He lifted it from the box. “Man, he was young then. Look at him.”
Haley leaned in closer. “You look a lot like him.”
“Maybe that’s why I recognize him. He was a lot older when I came along.”
She pointed to a corner of the photo. “That looks like part of a sign.”
“Yup. It’s still there, much older and painted different colors. McLeod’s Saddlery and Tack.”
“You should keep this, then. One mystery solved.”
He didn’t argue, merely slipped the photo into his breast pocket. “I’d be happy to go through those with you. Maybe some of them will ring a bell for me.”
“Thanks, I’d like that.”
So, apparently she hadn’t decided to leave just yet. He gave her points for courage.
“You know,” she said after a moment, “this whole day there’s been an undercurrent of sadness for me.”
He leaned back against the counter so he could see her face better. “Sorrow?” And here he’d been thinking of her fear.
“Yeah, but not exactly. That’s a strong word. It’s just that I’m going through things that people considered important enough to keep, but I don’t know why. So much is lost.”
“Maybe your dad could help? Flora was his mother, right?”
“Yeah.” She left the box on the counter and went to put the kettle on. “Maybe I can persuade him to come home for a visit. He’s awfully busy, especially after he fell behind on drilling because of Flora’s funeral.”
“How do you fall behind on drilling?”
She surprised him by laughing. “Danged if I know. I just know when he kissed me goodbye before getting on the plane, he said he had a backlog he needed to catch up on, so he might miss a few phone calls. Can I make you some fresh coffee?”
“I need to run to the store to get a few more things for the ductwork. How about I do that and come back after?”
“I’d like that, Roger. I can’t tell you how nice it is to reconnect with you.”
“Same here. Okay then, I’ll be back as soon as I get all the parts.”
She was still smiling when he left. He almost felt like whistling.
Across the street, the beefy man walking a white Yorkie watched Roger pull out of the driveway, then stared at the house for a few minutes before moving on. Edgar Metzler was a regular sight at this end of town, although usually he walked Puddles, his dog, in the early morning or evening, varying according to his schedule.
Haley McKinsey was still there. Maybe that McLeod guy was making her feel safe…
Edgar would give it another day or two, but if she didn’t leave town, he was going to have to do something stronger than look in her window.
He was almost positive she couldn’t identify him. She hadn’t been able to do that right after he’d kidnapped her, mostly because he’d taken care not to show his face, except once by accident when he’d returned her.
He didn’t really have a criminal nature, he assured himself. Yeah, he’d made a big mistake stealing six hundred bucks from her dad and getting himself fired. He’d known he’d been stupid, but the way Jack McKinsey had treated him—as if he were poop to be scraped off the bottom of his boot—that had rankled.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t found another job. Of course he had, up in Alberta, far away from the scene of his crimes. But McKinsey’s treatment of him had been like a constant irritation until he’d decided to teach the man a lesson.
So he’d stolen the guy’s daughter. Okay, he’d been young and stupid, and it had taken him only two days to realize just how stupid. Taking a man’s daughter and demanding a hundred thousand in ransom? Made him look like a pettier crook than he actually was and had walked him into deeper trouble than he’d even thought about until he’d done it and seen the reports on the news. Kidnapping. To this day he couldn’t figure out how he’d come to the conclusion that would be a good idea. It was like that ad he saw on TV about diamonds: kidnapping is forever.
But as soon as the light bulb had turned on, he’d dumped the evidence where he was sure she would be found and fled back to Alberta.
For a long time he’d felt safe. A quarter century safe. He’d retired from the oil fields and had been drawn here by a job teaching about drilling equipment for a vocational program at the community college. Less than two years ago.
Then he’d heard that Haley McKinsey was in town to take care of her grandmother’s house. All of a sudden he didn’t feel quite so safe. What if she remembered him even after all this time?
Going by the house last night to look in on her while she was sleeping had been a test as much as anything. Yeah, he’d wanted to scare her a bit if she woke, but mostly he’d wanted to know if he could remember her. She’d been a kid when he’d last seen her, but if he could recognize her…well, buried somewhere deep in that blond head there might be a memory of him.