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When Summer Comes

When Summer Comes (Whiskey Creek #3)(52)
Author: Brenda Novak

“We could be in a world of hurt if we do. The way I feel right now, I’m not good for anything.” He returned her smile with a tired one of his own.

“You’ll feel better in the morning. We’ll be fine until then. I’ve got my pellet gun, after all,” she added with a chuckle. Then, with Rifle at her heels, she turned and fled toward her room—but Levi stopped her before she could get very far.

“Callie?”

She clenched her hands as she looked back. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Please, don’t apologize.” She conjured up that same polite smile. “I respect your…your position on that. Actually, I don’t know what came over me. I’m embarrassed that I’ve been so forward.” Her laugh sounded a bit awkward to her own ears, but she hoped he wouldn’t notice. “I have no excuse except…I haven’t really been myself lately. There’s…there’s a lot going on in my life.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Callie. I’m flattered to think you might want to be with me.”

“That’s kind of you to say. Thank you for…for being such a gentleman.” She started to hurry away again, but he continued to talk, and courtesy demanded she stop and listen.

“It isn’t that you’re not…attractive to me,” he said. “You realize that, right?”

She raised one hand. “Really, you don’t have to say any more. I was completely out of line. I just…misread what you were feeling and assumed too much. So I’m the one who owes you an apology for…for putting you on the spot like that. Let’s forget it ever happened. I have a better understanding of the situation now, if that makes you feel more comfortable.”

When he muttered a curse, she didn’t know how to respond. But no way was she going to question him about it. She desperately wanted to drop the subject. “See you in the morning.”

“You didn’t misread anything,” he called after her.

She’d reached her bedroom door, so this time she didn’t turn around to face him. “Levi, please believe me. Everything’s fine. We don’t have to talk about it. Nothing like that will ever happen again. Okay?”

He made no comment.

Grateful for the reprieve, she closed the door. Then she went into the bathroom, cut up that bustier and threw it and every last condom in the trash.

17

Because it was Sunday, Callie thought the arson investigator wouldn’t come until the following day, but he showed up bright and early. Callie didn’t recognize him. He was a small man, compactly built, who came from the county. He didn’t say much to her. Chief Stacy insisted she and Levi stay out of the way, so they had almost no interaction with the man at first. The police chief was the one who showed him around. But they didn’t have to wait long for his opinion. It took the investigator only a couple of hours to decide what had started the fire. Then he sought them out to say that an accelerant had been used, probably gasoline, which could’ve been ignited with a match.

“Arson,” Callie repeated, shocked in spite of her assumptions.

“Without a doubt,” he said. Then he asked them to recount exactly what had occurred last night. As soon as they finished, Chief Stacy pulled him aside again and they spoke in low voices. She and Levi were left standing near the charred remains of the barn.

“I had a feeling,” she murmured. “But I still don’t want to believe it.” How could someone do such a thing—even someone as angry and vengeful as Denny Seamans? What if Levi had been killed in the blaze? Had Denny really intended to take a human life? He knew, from when he’d been over before, that Levi was staying in the barn….

Levi squinted as he looked over at the other men. “What I want to know is whether they’ll be able to prove who did it. Gasoline and matches are very common substances. Everyone has access to them, so that hardly narrows the list of suspects.”

“Maybe someone saw Denny’s truck last night.”

“Out here? Who’d be up at that time of night?”

“It’s possible,” she said.

“But not likely.”

“Which means he’ll go unpunished.”

“Which means he’ll be free to try something else.”

“One fire is bad enough.” She rubbed the goose bumps from her arms. “What do we do?”

“Keep our eyes open.”

Callie nodded. She was chilled by the thought of further trouble. But there was one bright spot—as long as Levi was worried about her safety, he’d probably stay.

* * *

When someone knocked on the door in the late afternoon, Levi figured it might be the arson investigator, back with a few questions or wanting to take a second peek at the barn. Or Chief Stacy. Had he finally discovered Levi’s true identity? Was he here with an arrest warrant?

It was neither. He held Rifle back as he opened the door to find a big, barrel-chested man, salt-and-pepper hair buzzed short, on the stoop, scowling in the direction of the damaged barn.

“Look at that,” he said the moment Levi opened the door. “Just about destroyed the whole thing.”

Levi didn’t know what to say. He had no idea who this was, until the man looked directly at him. Then something about his face reminded Levi of Callie—probably the dimples on either side of his mouth.

“You must be…Callie’s father?” he guessed.

“That’s right.” He squatted to acknowledge Rifle, who was obviously excited to see him, then focused on the stitches snaking down Levi’s arm. “And you must be the fellow who was attacked by those dogs.”

“That would be me.”

He straightened. “A terrible experience. Sorry about that.”

After Chief Stacy had made it clear that Levi wasn’t welcome in Whiskey Creek—that he wasn’t even good enough to stay for a week or two—Levi hadn’t expected Callie’s parents to be friendly. If anyone had a right to doubt him, to be leery of him, it was them. But Levi quickly decided that her father never had a bad thought about anyone. It just wasn’t in his nature to be skeptical or withholding, and that was apparent from his very first words.

“Boone Vanetta.” He stuck out his big paw so they could shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Levi responded.

He leaned to the left so he could look around Levi and into the house. “My daughter here somewhere?”

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