on this old, unwanted property anyway?”
“Maybe it’s not as unwanted as you think it is.”
She sighed and tried not to think about that. What she wanted to believe was that there was some simple explanation for why Shelby was a no-show yesterday, and that they’d set another day and time, sign the papers, then she’d show the people of Ralston what a woman was capable of when her mind was set, and everything else would fall into place. “Maybe, maybe not. I’ll know more when I talk to Shelby. So, are we all done with the interrogation, Detective?”
He smiled at her dry tone. “I’m not interrogating. I’m researching, just trying to fill in as many of the blanks as possible. When will you be able to get started on the renovation work and construction? Do you have everything lined up?” He shifted slightly in his seat, which wasn’t easy considering his tall, broad-shouldered frame was all but crammed into the cab of her truck. A tall, broad-shouldered frame she was having an increasingly difficult time ignoring. It didn’t help any that she could feel his gaze pinned on her.
“That’s actually part of my agenda in town this morning. I’m going to see Sheriff Gilby about the latest graffiti hit-and-run; then I have an appointment with the head of the chamber of commerce to try and get a little goodwill established.”
“You say that like you expect resistance.”
“Oh, I didn’t expect it, but I’m getting it all the same.”
“Why? You’re bringing work in the short term and a customer base in the long run. They should be lining up to help you out. What’s the reaction been?”
“I’m not sure I understand it entirely, but I think it’s just old-fashioned resistance to working with or for a woman. I can’t actually hire anyone yet, until Shelby and I settle things, but—”
“And you don’t think that might be related to the vandalism?”
“I don’t know. I hadn’t put those two things together. The town isn’t exactly right down the road from the camp.”
“Well, if the townsfolk aren’t happy to see you, and someone is spray painting ‘go home’ on your trees, you might want to.” He shifted back. “Something’s not adding up here, Kate.”
She wanted to believe he’d spent too much time on the streets of New York City and therefore, had just jumped to the worst case scenario out of habit, but when he put it that way, it was hard to deny he might have a point. “It’s not like anyone has been hostile, or said a negative word. I’m just having a hard time finding my niche in town. I haven’t been here all that long. I figure once I actually hire someone, anyone, and they see I’m serious, they’ll be a little more excited about the possibility of getting some work from me. I chalked it up to them not wanting to commit labor and supplies to a job they don’t fully trust is happening yet, possibly turning down other work in the meantime.”
“And you might be right. But have you thought about the possibility that it might be more than old-fashioned prejudice at work here? Maybe they’ve gotten wind of the developer interest.”
She shrugged, suddenly feeling very inept and not liking it one bit. “I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t know about it, so I’m not sure it’s common knowledge, but then I don’t spend a lot of time in town. I’ve only been down a few times, for supplies and to gather information on the local construction businesses and the like. I haven’t exactly been a presence there.” Yet.
She wasn’t sure what direction his thoughts were taking, but hers were going in a number of disturbing directions all by themselves. As much as she didn’t want to believe it, it looked as if there was a possibility she was caught up in something a little more serious than she thought. She’d been so focused on getting things done with Shelby, she’d never taken the time to connect everything together. She’d just wanted to get her name in print as owner of the place, then figure out the rest.
“This isn’t your problem, you know,” she told him at length.
“I’m not going away, if that’s where you’re going with this. One way or the other, I’m here for the duration.”
Her eyes widened. “The duration of what?”
“The duration of however long it takes to resolve the problems you’re facing. At the very least, until you get your name on those papers and we make sure you’re not under any kind of serious threat from whoever is vandalizing the place. We should look into the developer end of things, too.”
“What could they possibly have to do with vandalizing my property?”
Mac shrugged. “They want something bad enough and can’t get it through proper channels…”
“I think you’re being paranoid.”
“And I think you should find out exactly what Shelby is up to, too. What contact he’s had with them. I’m telling you, it all probably factors in.”
“And you know this because…?”
“Because my instincts tell me so. And they’re rarely wrong. I wouldn’t be sitting here in this truck if I didn’t listen to them.”
He was so intent, so serious, so certain. It was unnerving, both his mere presence and his focus on what, by rights, was none of his business. She’d be lying if she said there wasn’t a tiny part of her that was grateful for his timely intrusion. But it was that timely part that still had her concerned. Maybe she was the paranoid one. “Exactly what kind of business is it that you three run anyway?”
Which should have been the first question out of her mouth when the other two names came up. They’d been known as the Unholy Trinity with good reason from the first summer they’d united at camp. If there was trouble brewing, the trail had inevitably led back to one of the three, or, as was more often the case, all three combined.
Kate hadn’t spent much time out there each summer, but between her brief jaunts and listening to her mother complain about, well, everything, it was no secret that the three of them hadn’t done much to make camp life run smoothly. Each of them was so different, but still a black sheep of sorts in his own way. Donovan was the bastard kid of the camp handyman, Donny Mac, who’d spent a fair share of time in the Ralston drunk tank, when he wasn’t beating up on his only son. Rafe was an inner city kid whose mom worked several jobs, one as a maid for some Wall Street shark who made himself feel better by sending her kid to rich kids’ camp every summer. He’d been a fish out of water with an attitude the size of the Empire State Building. He’d bonded with Donovan immediately.
Finn was the unexpected addition to the trio. Every bit as wealthy as his camp counterparts, if not more so, he should have fit right in at Camp Winnimocca. He was the stereotypical golden boy, from his blond, bronzed good looks to his big fat trust fund. By all rights, he should have been camp leader. Except Finn had been rebelling against his father, his own wealth, and his defacto place in the world, pretty much, it seemed, since birth. He’d intentionally aligned himself with the camp outcasts and all but dared anyone to challenge his choice in friends. In fact, he had challenged them, and their preconceived notions, all the time.
Kate had secretly admired, even coveted, his rebellious nature. But it wasn’t Finn’s gleaming perfection that had caught her eye, or fueled her midnight fantasies. The source of every single one of those had been Donovan.
“So if Finn spent years tearing down his father’s empire while you were chasing bad guys and Rafe was doing God knows what, when did you start this joint venture?”
“About eighteen months ago. Once Finn had everything set and control over his own destiny, so to speak, he brought us in.”
“Doing what, exactly?”
There was a pause. Then he said, “Helping people.”
She glanced at him. “In what capacity, exactly?”
“In whatever capacity they need us. I’m all for justice and the