his pose, Sara nevertheless kept her distance. The chrome platform of the bumper was cold, even through heavy fire-protective clothing. “That must have been right before she put on her rain gear and headed outside.” An icy shiver zinged up her spine. Had the influence of Vicki’s discovery followed her all the way home to Missouri?
“Maybe whoever was shooting at me thinks I can expose that crime. Vicki and I were always together. How would they know I can’t prove a thing?”
Turning slightly to face her, Adam scowled. “The only way they would was if Vicki had told them so and they’d believed her. And that’s only plausible if she didn’t drown before...”
Wide-eyed, Sara pivoted to stare back at him. “Before?”
His jaw muscles worked as if he could barely make himself speak. “Before they had a chance to kill her.”
“That is so not funny.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
“Vicki drowned accidentally. The coroner signed off on her death without question.”
“Because he was sure or because he was buried in work? No pun intended.”
“You were at her funeral. You saw her, same as I did. There wasn’t a mark on her.” Sara’s voice broke and she had to pause to recover. “She did something foolish and the flood took her. She wasn’t the only victim but she was the only one from our missionary group.”
“Until today,” Adam reminded her.
“Yes. Until Rodrigo.” The memory of the failed rescue would probably stick in her memory the rest of her life. As a nurse she had seen death, of course, but always in a hospital setting where she and her coworkers could work hard to stave off the inevitable. Acting as a volunteer EMT was harder. In the field she was reduced to guessing the severity of injuries and praying she was making the right diagnoses.
Losing Vicki had shaken Sara’s faith to the point that she’d begun to question her effectiveness as a nurse and as a praying Christian. She’d sent up hours of fervent prayers for her cousin, yet Vicki was gone. If God had heard her and denied her request, as Scripture taught could happen, she wasn’t at all happy about it, let alone ready to accept it.
And then there was the matter of poor Rodrigo. Why had he been inside the burning apartment? Why had he followed her home to Paradise? Vicki had seemed romantically attracted to him during their brief trip but they hadn’t had time to develop a real relationship. Or had they?
Sara sighed quietly. Vicki was easy to like, easy to talk to. Men and women both warmed up to her immediately. Unlike me. She chanced a sidelong glance at Adam. He’d been the same way, always laughing and enjoying her cousin’s company a lot more than hers. The hardest test for Sara was when they had both bid him goodbye after his enlistment. Vicki had thrown her arms around his neck and even stolen a kiss, but when it had been Sara’s turn Adam had acted embarrassed and resisted. All in all, she had loved her cousin and envied her at the same time.
Admitting that character flaw only added to Sara’s sense of personal guilt. If Adam was right and her cousin had been purposely drowned, perhaps it was time to redeem herself by trying to uncover the truth.
But how? The only concrete tie to the missionary volunteers was Rodrigo. How was she ever going to learn how involved Vicki may have been with him? Her diary! Maybe she’d confided secrets in those pages. All Sara had to do was figure out a way to get a peek at the diary, assuming it had been sent home with her cousin’s other personal possessions instead of accidentally destroyed or kept by the Texas police. It would be wonderful to uncover a budding romance because it might indicate that Rigo’s visit to Paradise wasn’t made for nefarious reasons.
Remembering Vicki’s recent funeral and the way Helen, Vicki’s mother, had wept and wailed and spread accusations of blame, Sara realized she’d almost rather be shot at again than have to approach that grieving woman and ask for a peek at Vicki’s journal.
Another thought intruded, pulling her back to the elements that she was certain about. Her gaze met Adam’s. “Wait a second. Rodrigo was inside the burning apartment. We know he couldn’t have shot at us. So who did?”
Adam’s incredulous expression made her feel foolish. When he huffed, rolled his eyes and said, “Took you long enough,” she realized he had already asked himself the same question, probably hours ago.
As far as Sara was concerned, that proved how distracted she still was and how inept she’d been acting since returning to Paradise. For a person who prided herself on having it all together and functioning at the highest level, that realization was distressing. Not only was she more vulnerable while her brain took a vacation, so were the fire department volunteers she worked with. That failing was not acceptable to her and it certainly should not be acceptable to the fire chief.
What galled her most was that it was Adam Kane she cared most about impressing. Right now he was acting as if she should be able to focus, to think as clearly as she usually did.
Unfortunately, nothing could be further from the truth. Her life was falling apart around her and she hadn’t a clue what to do about it.
Adam was determined to escort Sara home from the fire station that night whether she liked it or not. It wasn’t a difficult chore since she lived in one of the apartments located above the offices and shops that lined all four sides of the Paradise town square. An old-fashioned courthouse sat in the center while police and fire stations were on Church Street, a short block east off the main drag.
“I jogged over. I can walk home,” she insisted.
“Good for you. Humor me and get in.” He held the door to his ranch pickup truck open for her before circling and sliding behind the wheel.
“Aren’t you on duty tonight?”
“Yes. But I won’t be far away. I have everything I need with me in case we get another call.”
“I sure hope we don’t.”
“Yeah, me, too.” He turned the final corner and pulled to the curb in front of Sara’s apartment, above Cynthia Weatherly’s insurance agency office. He got out and circled to open the passenger door.
“I can open my own doors, Adam.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, clearly mocking.
“All right. Sorry. Thanks.”
“My pleasure.”
He trailed close behind, almost bumping into Sara when she stopped on the stairs and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Seeing you to your door.”
“Why?”
“Because the chief of police asked me to.” And because there is no way I’m going to let you walk into possible danger without me.
“That’s ridiculous. Besides,
