“Ain't crazy, sir,” Blade said stiffly. “Folks say I'm paranoid, but I know I ain't crazy.”
Roland shrugged into his shirt. “I wasn't referring to you, soldier.” He scanned Blade's array of implements. “You got any extra firepower you can loan me for the mission? I didn't come prepared.”
Blade eyed him. “You got some experience in this kind of thing, sir?”
“Been a rancher all my life. Spent a few years in the Marine Corps.”
Blade beamed with satisfaction. “Reckon you're the one who taught Caleb here how to handle a weapon.”
Roland flicked a hooded glance at Caleb. “Reckon I was.”
“Here you go, sir.” Blade removed a revolver from his belt and handed it to Roland.
Roland examined the gun for a few seconds. “Nice.”
“I keep all my equipment in good shape,” Blade said. “Man's only as good as his equipment.”
“Ain't that the truth,” Roland agreed.
Caleb swore softly and raised a hand for attention. “Hold on a minute here. Nobody goes off half cocked. We will all proceed to Asterley's cabin in an orderly fashion, and we will find out precisely what is going on there. But no one, I repeat, no one, is to open fire on anything or anyone unless I give the command. Understood?”
Blade snapped to attention. “You're in charge around here, Mr. Mayor.”
Roland's brows rose. “Mr. Mayor?”
“Remind me to tell you about my budding career in local politics,” Caleb said.
“Politics.”
The back door of the cottage opened at that moment. Serenity appeared. She hovered anxiously on the threshold for a minute, peering into the glass-walled hot tub room. Then she hurried across the porch and slid the glass door open.
“What is going on out here? Blade.” She glared at him in the shadows. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“Got trouble, Serenity,” Blade said. “Invasion's started. Got to neutralize the point man before he signals the others with an all-clear.”
“Oh, no, not tonight,” Serenity wailed. “Couldn't you halt the invasion some other night? I've got a houseguest this evening.”
“Sorry,” Blade said. “They picked the time. Not us.”
Serenity turned to Caleb. “Can't you do something about this?”
“Don't worry.” Caleb put one foot on the bench and leaned over to tie his boot laces. “I'm good at this kind of thing.”
For some reason, Caleb was genuinely surprised to see the flashlight beam sweep past the kitchen windows of Asterley's cabin. “I'll be damned. Someone is in there.”
“Told you so.” Blade's voice was a gravelly whisper. It emanated from the vicinity of a huge fir tree. Charon and Styx waited eagerly in the shadows beside him.
Roland came to a halt next to Caleb and studied the darkened cabin. “There's someone in there, all right.”
“I can see that.” Caleb braced himself against the biting cold and tried to think quickly. So much for the theory that this was a simple fantasy born of Blade's chronic paranoia. There was definitely an intruder in the Asterley cabin. He wondered who would want to prowl around in there at this time of night.
Then he recalled the file cabinets in the basement. Nearly four decades of photographs were stored in the downstairs room that Jessie had not yet cleared out. There was no way of knowing what Asterley had photographed over the years. The files had contained fodder for Firebrace's blackmail scheme. They might very well contain other pictures that someone else would consider devastating. Maybe others had learned of Asterley's death and had come to search through his files for dangerous pictures.
“Point man, all right,” Blade said. “No doubt about it.”
“Looks like you got yourself a burglar in there, Mayor,” Roland said quietly. There was an underlying current of excitement in his voice.
“Or just a transient who decided to bed down in an empty cabin for the night,” Caleb said, trying to maintain his role as the rational one in the group.
“Wouldn't think you'd get many transients here in Witt's End,” Roland observed. “Especially at this time of year. Too damn cold.”
“We get all kinds here.” Caleb listened to the sentence as it echoed in his mind. We get all kinds here.
We.
For the first time he realized he had started to think of this bizarre community as home. Home was where a man settled down. Got married. Raised a family of his own.
I'm in training to have a baby. It's time.
“Well, son? What do you think?” Roland asked.
“I think it's time,” Caleb said softly.
Blade stirred amid the branches of his tree. “Want me to send the dogs in first?”
“No,” Caleb said. “Not until we know what's going on. The last thing we need is a lawsuit filed against us for a malicious dog attack.”
“Won't be no lawsuit if we get rid of the body,” Blade said helpfully.
“You're right,” Caleb said, trying to be patient. “But it'll be a lot cleaner if we handle this one officially, the way we did the last one.”
Roland's head swiveled around in the shadows. “What last one?”
“It's a long story,” Caleb said. “I'll tell you about it later. Right now we've got other things to do. Follow me, gentlemen.”
“We going to break down the door?” Blade asked.
“Not right away.” Caleb led the way through the trees, circling the cabin. “First we're going to see if there's a car parked in the driveway.”
“Good idea.” Roland held the revolver pointed toward the ground as he fell into step beside Caleb.
“There's a car in the drive,” Blade said. “Saw it earlier. Guy came in undercover.”
Caleb saw the familiar silhouette of a sports car as soon as he rounded the corner of the cabin. In the shadows it was impossible to discern the color, but he was fairly certain it would prove to be red.
“Forget the invasion.” Caleb came to a halt. “That's Radburn's car.”
“The professor?” Blade sounded disappointed. “The one who's been botherin' Serenity?”
“I'm afraid so,” Caleb said. “I wouldn't be surprised to find out that Jessie's real estate agent rented the cabin to Radburn. Looks like he's decided to take an aggressive approach to his research.”
“Does this mean the excitement is over for the night?” Roland asked. He sounded almost disappointed.
Caleb smiled slowly. “Not necessarily. Blade, why don't you take the dogs and go knock on the front door?”
Blade's teeth flashed briefly. “I get it. You want me to be the welcoming committee, is that it?”
“Something like that,” Caleb agreed. “Don't forget to warn him that he's living in a high-risk zone. Could be an invasion any day.”
“I'll tell him all about it,” Blade said. He motioned to Styx and Charon, who fell in happily at his heels.
Roland watched Blade and the dogs head toward the front door of the cabin. “This should be interesting.”
“It usually is,” Caleb said.
Caleb was still laughing half an hour later when he walked into the warmth of the cottage. Roland followed him through the door, chuckling. Serenity eyed both men warily as she closed the door.
“What's going on here?” she demanded. “Where's Blade? What happened?”
“Don't worry,” Caleb said. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on a brass hook. “Situation's under control. The invasion has been put off indefinitely.”
Roland grinned as he took off his jacket. “Your friend Blade is back out on regular sentry duty.”
“But what have you been doing?” Serenity hastened after Caleb and Roland as they crossed the room to warm themselves near the wood stove.
“Performing my mayoral duties. I and my companions have been busy welcoming a new citizen to Witt's End.” Caleb held his hands out to the heat. He caught his grandfather's amused gaze and winked.
“What new citizen
?” Serenity asked.
“Lloyd Radburn, distinguished professor of Sociology.” Caleb grinned. “Jessie's real estate agent rented him the Asterley cabin.”
“Oh, no.” Serenity looked thoroughly disgusted. “I was so hoping he'd give up his stupid research project.”
“He's probably considering doing just that about now,” Roland said with suspicious blandness.
Serenity frowned. “Wait a minute. What have you two been up to out there? I hope you haven't done anything that's going to cause trouble.”
“We haven't done a damn thing except welcome the guy to town,” Caleb said.
Serenity put her hands on her hips and regarded both men with narrowed eyes. “And just how did you go about doing that?”
“We sent Blade to the front door to tell him about the possibility of an impending invasion,” Roland explained. “Caleb said that it was only fair to warn the man about the risks of living here.”
“You sent Blade in?” Serenity looked startled. “But Lloyd has never met him. He wouldn't understand. You know how alarming Blade can be on first sight. I hope you went to the door, too, in order to sort of explain Blade to Lloyd.”
Caleb smiled at Roland across the wood stove. “Damn. We didn't think of that, did we?”
“Nope, sure didn't. Don't exactly know how you'd go about explaining your friend Blade, anyway. Kind of unique.”
“You don't explain Blade, you experience him.” Caleb headed for the kitchen. “I believe the news that we're not going to be invaded tonight calls for a beer. Want one, Roland?”
“Why not. Not every night a man gets to celebrate an invasion that's been called off.”
Serenity's smiling eyes met Caleb's as he opened the refrigerator. “You two can sit out here all night, drink Old Hogwash and tell each other how you stopped the invasion of Witt's End. As for me, I'm going to bed. I need my sleep.”
“Yeah, I know.” Caleb picked up two bottles of Old Hogwash and closed the refrigerator door. “You're in training.”
“That's right. Good night, gentlemen.” Serenity smiled serenely at both men and went down the hall to the bedroom.
A heady rush of emotion filled Caleb as he watched her disappear. He turned his head and saw Roland regarding him with a peculiar expression.
“She'll make an interesting granddaughter-in-law, all right,” Roland said as Caleb handed him one of the bottles of Old Hogwash. “But promise me one thing.”
“What's that?”
“Try to keep those photos Asterley took of her out of the Ventress Valley News, will you? I'm not sure your hometown is capable of appreciating that sort of fine art.”
Caleb thought of the negatives he had found in Firebrace's desk drawer a couple of minutes before the Seattle police had answered the 911 summons. “Don't worry. I think I can promise you that those pictures are going to stay in my private collection. There's only one person who may still have copies, and I believe we can get hold of those.”
“Who's that?”
“Franklin.”
“I'll get them back from Franklin,” Roland said grimly.
Caleb took a swallow of Old Hogwash and considered how to say what had to be said. “There's a couple of things you should know about the past.”
Roland sighed and sat down in the overstuffed armchair. “I'm listening.”
The gentle clink of beads awoke Serenity an hour and a half later. She stirred amid the covers as Caleb parted the curtain and got into bed. He reached out to pull her into his arms.
She touched his face gently. “How did it go?”
Caleb threaded his fingers through her hair and leaned over to nuzzle her ear. “How did what go?”
“Your talk with Roland.”
“Fine. He's bedded down on the sofa.” Caleb kissed her throat.
Serenity tried to evade his mouth. “Did you tell him everything? About how your parents died? About Firebrace?”
“Uh-huh.” Caleb eased his leg higher between her thighs.
“Did you tell him about Franklin's affair with Patricia?”
“No. Like I said earlier, there's not much point.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Well, how did he take all your news?” Serenity asked, exasperated.
“He took it,” Caleb said. “As he himself reminded me, he's eighty-two years old. He's had a lot of experience at taking whatever life hands him.”
Serenity thought about that. “And he's capable of changing, Caleb. He's proven that.”
“Yeah.” Caleb moved his hand up along her leg to the top of her thigh.
“For your sake.”
“Yeah.” He squeezed gently.
“He didn't come here tonight because I coerced him into it, you know. He came because of you.”
“I know.” Caleb pulled her down across his chest.
“He came here because he wanted to do things differently this time,” Serenity said earnestly. “Because he didn't want to repeat the mistakes of the past.”
“If you say so.” He curved his hand around the back of her head and pulled her mouth to his.
“And you care for him,” Serenity mumbled against his lips.
“He's my grandfather. I'm his grandson. We didn't get all mushy about it. We just decided that we both have a hell of a lot of bits and pieces of each other stuck to us.”
“Caleb, I'm sure that what you feel for your grandfather is a genuine filial love,” Serenity said. “And he loves you like a son. I can tell.”
“Is that right?”
“I'm sure of it.”
“You're entitled to your opinion. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to change the subject.”
“What do you want to talk about?”
“Your training schedule.” He brushed his mouth lightly across hers and then he kissed the line of her jaw.
“Oh, that.” Serenity smiled in the shadows. “I want to do the best possible job on this baby. After all, it will be the first baby born in Witt's End since I arrived.”
“I can understand your desire to do your best. Rest assured that you have obtained the best possible consulting assistance on this project.”
“That's nice to know.”
Caleb framed her face between his palms and looked up at her with disturbingly serious eyes. “I should warn you that I haven't had much experience with babies and all the stuff that goes with them.”
“Don't worry about it,” Serenity whispered. “Something tells me you'll be very good at that kind of thing.”
The loud knock on the front door brought Caleb abruptly awake. He turned on his side, untangled his legs from Serenity's and sat up in bed. The cold light of morning was seeping through the window.
Whoever was at the front door pounded again, more heavily this time.
“Someone's at the door,” Serenity mumbled from beneath a pillow.
“No kidding.” Caleb shoved aside the covers. “Whoever he is, he hasn't got long to live.”
Serenity gave a muffled laugh. “It's probably Harry come to collect your grandfather and take him home. He'll be nervous enough as it is, don't terrorize him.”
“He didn't have to arrive at the crack of dawn.” Caleb yanked on his jeans and stalked down the hall toward the living room. He heard the front door open before he reached it.
“Good morning,” Roland drawled politely. “Bit early to come calling, isn't it?”
“Who the hell are you?” a deep, gruff voice demanded.
“Name's Ventress. Who are you?”
“You're Ventress?” The bearlike voice rose on a note of patent disbelief. “Ariadne told me you were in your thirties. Some kind of hotshot business consultant or something.”
“I'm Caleb Ventress,” Caleb said stonily as he rounded the corner.
“Is that a fact?” The huge man in the doorway glared at him from beneath a jutting browline that would have done justice to a Neanderthal. The gold earring he wore gleamed evilly. He flicked
another glance at Roland, who was holding the door open. “Just how many Ventresses are there around here?”
“Two.” Caleb swept the visitor with a quick, assessing glance.
The big man not only sounded like a bear, he looked like one. He had massive shoulders, a thick beard, and broad, heavy features. His dark brown eyes glittered ominously. He was dressed in faded jeans, leather boots, and a black leather jacket trimmed with silver studs. He wore a bandanna tied around his receding gray hair in a fashion favored by motorcycle outlaws and pirates.
“Well, well, well.” The man looked Caleb up and down with a blunt, appraising expression. “So you're the one.”
“Looks like it. Who are you?” Caleb asked.
“Name's Julius Makepeace, son.” White teeth flashed in the middle of a brushy beard. “Let's hope we get along real good. From what I hear, I'm the closest thing you've got to a future father-in-law.”
20
NINE AND A HALF MONTHS LATER, SHORTLY AFTER NOON on a bright summer day, Serenity abruptly realized that something was happening inside her. She looked up from the glowing review of the Ambrose Asterley Retrospective exhibit that had appeared in yesterday's edition of the Seattle Times.
“I think you'd better go find Caleb,” she said to Zone.
Zone did not lift her gaze from a stack of order forms that had arrived in the morning mail. The second edition of the Witt's End by Mail catalog had gone out and business was brisk. “The mayor and his grandfather are inspecting the warehouse. The big storm last night did some damage, apparently. A tree was blown down across the roof.”
A warehouse had become a necessity within three months of the publication of the first edition of Witt's End by Mail. The orders had come in swiftly and steadily. Caleb's major concern, in fact, had been finding ways to stabilize and control the growth of the business.
Serenity put her hand to her lower back and winced. “Please go find Caleb and tell him it's time.”
“Time for what?” Zone looked up with a quizzical expression. Then her eyes widened. “Oh, my goodness. Time? You mean it's your time?”
“Yes.” Serenity caught her breath.
Zone leaped to her feet. “You aren't due for another two weeks.”