River Road(44)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

The cop nodded at Lucy. “Heard Sara Sheridan left the house to a niece.”

“I was getting it ready to put on the market,” Lucy said. “But stuff seems to keep happening.”

“Yeah, like finding the body of a ra**st in the fireplace,” the cop said. “Now this. The chief is not going to be happy.”

Someone yelled at the cop. He hurried away.

One of the firefighters came forward. The name on his jacket was Leggett.

“You’re the owner, ma’am?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Any chance that there was anyone at home tonight?”

“No, thank heavens.” Lucy folded her wrap around herself. “The house was empty. I’m staying in town.”

“That’s some good news, then,” Leggett said. “Sure hope you had insurance.”

“Yes, the premium was paid through the end of the year,” Lucy said. “Do you have any idea what might have started the fire?”

“Not yet,” Leggett said. “The house was old. Could have been any number of things, from wiring to transients. There will be an investigation after things cool down. That will take a couple of days.”

He walked away to rejoin his crew.

Lucy looked at Mason. “I’m betting it won’t be the wiring.”

“That’s a sucker bet,” Mason said. “I’m not taking it.”

“I seriously doubt that the fire was the work of transients, either.”

“Might depend on your definition of transient,” Mason said.

“Why in the world would anyone burn down Sara’s house, and why now?”

“Maybe because whoever did it couldn’t find what he was looking for last night and figured that the safest way to make sure any incriminating evidence disappeared was to torch the house.”

“What evidence could Sara possibly have possessed?” Lucy asked.

“She knew that Brinker was the Scorecard Rapist. Maybe she knew other things as well.”

“Maybe. But in that case, I would have thought she would have concealed it with the body.”

“Not if she concluded that innocent people might be hurt if the evidence was ever found,” Mason said.

“You’re right.” Lucy thought about it. “But if she believed that was true, trust me, she would have destroyed the evidence thirteen years ago.”

“Whoever burned down the house couldn’t have been certain of that.”

Lucy contemplated the burning house. “I guess this takes care of the problem of packing up Sara’s things and bringing in an appraiser.”

“I’d say so.”

“One thing for sure, this date didn’t end the way I thought it would.”

“Yeah, I had a different ending in mind, too,” Mason said. “I think we should leave town for our next date.”

Lacy glanced at him. Her face was unreadable. Her eyes were mysterious pools.

“Got any suggestions?” she asked.

“What do you say we drive over to the coast tomorrow?”

“This isn’t going to be a real date, is it?”

“When I hit a wall in a case, I sometimes find that it helps to visit the scene of the crime.”

“Wow, an out-of-town date to visit a crime scene,” Lucy said. “See, this is what was missing in all those matchmaking-agency dates.”

“What?”

“Originality.”

25

Lucy sat in the passenger seat and watched the rural scenery flow past. The drive from Summer River to the coast was only about forty miles, but the road was a two-lane highway that wound through a rolling landscape. A few miles back, the picturesque vineyards had given way to small farms. Goats and dairy cattle wandered across grassy fields. Signs advertising homemade cheese and antiques appeared at the side of the road.

Lucy could not escape a sense of adventure. They were on their way to a crime scene, but in her imagination the drive to the coast loomed as a turning point of sorts in her relationship with Mason.

She was not sure how she felt about that. But for reasons she did not want to examine too closely, she had tucked a few personal items into her tote. She knew that Mason was probably thinking along the same lines, because she was sure she had seen him slip a small leather overnight kit into the trunk of the car. Then again, maybe he was in the habit of always taking a few masculine essentials with him when he set out on a short road trip.

“It’s a relief to get away from Summer River for a while,” she said. “I’m tired of being the main attraction at the inn. This morning all anyone wanted to talk about was the fire.”

“Can’t blame everyone for being curious.” Mason slowed for a right-hand turn. “This is the road Sara and Mary would have taken to visit the old commune, right?”

Lucy caught a glimpse of a weathered sign. The lettering was so faded that it was difficult to make out the words Rainshadow Farm.

“Yes, this is it,” she said. “Sara and Mary brought me out here a few times. They met each other on the farm. Eventually, they moved to Summer River, but Sara often returned to give yoga and meditation lessons to the small crowd that hung on at the commune for a few years. The last of the Rainshadow Farm residents abandoned the place a year or two after Sara sent me away from Summer River. But Sara and Mary always made it a point to stop there on their way to the coast. It was very special to them.”

“Do you happen to know who owns the land?”

“Sara mentioned that when the last members of the alternative community left, they donated Rainshadow Farm to a nature conservancy.”

The narrow strip of blacktop had not been patched or repaired in a long while. Mason slowed the car, easing over the gashes and wounds in the road.

The remains of the blacktop gave way to an ancient graveled track, and then the wooden skeletons and rusted trailers that had once housed the residents of Rainshadow Farm came into view. Mason stopped.

Lucy opened her door and got out. Mason came around the front of the car to join her. Together they contemplated the remains of the commune.

“Doesn’t look like the new owners have taken much interest in this place,” Mason said.

Lucy put on her sunglasses and studied the weathered buildings. “Maybe they’ve forgotten about it. Or maybe they just don’t have the funds to clean up the area. There’s a great view from up there in the trees. Come on, I’ll show you.”

The old path was still partially visible. It climbed the hillside, cutting through low-lying scrub that swiftly transitioned into Douglas fir and a thick undergrowth. The light breeze stirred the leaves and carried the scents of the woods.