made his way down the steep slope that led away from the cabin, moving past his SUV and along the gravel driveway that led to the Harts’ house. He’d done his research before he’d arrived, knew exactly who his landlords were. At least who they were on paper. Jasmine Hart—well-known children’s book author and illustrator, faded to obscurity after the death of her husband and daughters, living a quiet life in New Hampshire until her mother-in-law fell down a flight of stairs and fractured her skull and her hip. Sarah Hart—owner of Lakeview Retreat. Widowed young. Raised a son. On the verge of losing the property she’d worked so hard for.
Those were the facts.
Reality was different. Reality was the frail, older woman who’d shuffled along with a walker while offering him tea, and the younger woman who’d looked like more trouble than Eli had time for. From the tip of her multicolored knit cap to the soles of her scuffed brown boots, she had the kind of can’t-hurt-me attitude that could put a person into all kinds of dangerous situations. Tough. Strong. A survivor. But brittle, too. Like overstressed glass, she might shatter at any moment.
He’d met other women like her. In Africa, Afghanistan and Iraq. Different places. Same stories. Military life had put him in contact with plenty of people whose lives had unfolded in horrifying tableaux. Jazz was no different.
Except for her eyes.
Not blue. Not green. A mixture of colors that reminded him of Asia’s deep valleys and lush jungles, of hazy mornings and strong, dark coffee. The fact that he’d noticed just proved how much trouble she was going to be. He had a job to do, and that job didn’t include comparing a woman’s eyes to foliage.
Two police cars were parked in front of Sarah’s house, and he skirted around them, stopping when a harsh voice called from the open doorway of the rancher. “You looking for someone, friend?”
“Just making sure everything is all right.” He waited until the officer moved into sight. “I’m Eli Jennings. One of the Harts’ renters.”
“Must be a pretty new one. As far as I know, none of the cabins have been rented in over a year.”
“I just drove in today.”
“Staying long?”
“At least a month.”
“For?”
“Business.”
“What kind of business?”
“Not the kind that’s going to cause you any trouble, Officer.”
“Sheriff. Jake Reed.” The man offered a hand, but his scowl said he wasn’t happy with Eli’s response. Too bad. It was all he was getting. Until Eli got a better sense of which Lakeview residents were important to his investigation, he planned to keep his purpose for being there close to the cuff. If the sheriff questioned him privately, he’d tell all. Otherwise, he had nothing more to say about his “business.”
He plastered a good-old-boy smile onto his face and leaned a shoulder against a porch post. “Good to meet you, Sheriff. So, is everything okay?”
“Everything is fine, Mr. Jennings. Sorry for the disturbance.” Jasmine emerged from the house, drowning in gray flannel pajamas, her hair a halo of wild curls around a sharp-angled face, her eyes huge pools of uncertainty.
Fine?
Eli doubted it. “It seems that if everything were okay you wouldn’t have two police cars sitting in front of your house.”
“Sarah thought she saw someone outside her window. I’m sure—”
“That she’s a crazy old fool who’s too muddled in the head to know what she’s looking at.” Sarah Hart appeared in the doorway, leaning heavily on her walker, her lined face pale, her knuckles white with tension.
“You know that isn’t what I think.” To her credit, Jasmine sounded hurt at her mother-in-law’s accusation, though Eli wondered if she actually did believe Sarah’s thinking was muddled.
“I know what I saw and what I saw was a face staring in the window at me.” Sarah sagged a little as she spoke, grimacing and in obvious pain.
Jazz put a hand on her shoulder. “You need to sit down, Sarah. Jake will handle things out here. Give me a few minutes and I’ll come in and make you a cup of tea.”
The older woman’s shoulders stiffened and her chin went up. She reminded Eli of a younger version of his grandma Fern. Soft as warm butter until someone got her back up, then she was hard as steel.
“I can handle making tea myself, and I’ll handle this investigation myself, too, if no one is willing to take me seriously.” She shot the sheriff a hard look that was only slightly less effective because of her frailty.
Eli turned his attention to Jake, watching for his reaction. The way he saw it, a man could be measured by the way he treated a lady. In his estimation, anyone who didn’t treat a lady right didn’t deserve to be called a man.
Apparently, the sheriff had the same philosophy. Despite Sarah’s obvious anger, Jake’s response was gentle, his words calm. “I’m taking you very seriously. If someone was here, we’ll find out who and why.”
“If?”
“Sarah, I’ve known you enough years to know that you’d rather hear the truth than a pretty lie, so I’m going to tell you what I think. I think you saw something. Whether or not that something was a person still has to be determined.”
Good answer, Reed. Not too coddling, not too gruff. The truth. Plain and simple. Eli’s opinion of the sheriff rose, and he pushed away from the porch pillar, ignoring Jasmine’s quelling look, the sheriff’s scrutiny, and the voice inside telling him to mind his own business. “Did you see a face, Mrs. Hart? Hair color? Eyes?”
“I’ve already taken her statement, Jennings. There’s no need to go over it all again.”
“Just wondering why she thought it was a person.”
“I saw eyes. White eyes.” Sarah shuddered, and Jasmine put a hand on her arm, aiming a dark look in Eli’s direction.
“Let’s go have that tea, Sarah. Would you like to join us, Sheriff?”
“Thanks, but I’m going to join my men, look around some more, then be on my way. If we find anything, I’ll stop back in.”
“Thank you.”
“If you see anything else that has you worried, give me a call. Doesn’t matter how trivial it seems.”
“We will.”
The sheriff nodded, then headed out into the rain, rounding the side of the house and disappearing from view.
“I guess you’ll be heading back to the cabin now.” It wasn’t a question. As a matter of fact, Eli was fairly confident it was a request.
“Am I?” He purposely drawled the words. “And here I was hoping to join you two for a cup of tea.” His mother would smack him upside the head if she knew he’d just begged an invitation,
