The Rebel's Return Read online

  “You came back because the bracelet was connected in your mind to possible violence, and you wanted to make sure your sister wasn’t affected by it.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Or maybe you just needed an excuse to come home.”

  He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t looking for excuses. I could have come home any time I wanted. I just thought it was better, for Emily’s sake, if I didn’t. And I was right. I got her to admit that people have been driving her crazy with questions since they’ve heard I’m back. Asking her stupid questions—like, is it true I’ve been in prison for the past fifteen years? Or am I really a Mafia hit man?”

  Rachel stared at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish. That old biddy, Martha Godwin, even stormed Wade’s office, demanding to know why he would allow his son to be around a man who raised all kinds of hell around here before getting away with murder.”

  She winced. “Martha flagged me down when I went to the pharmacy for my grandmother yesterday,” she admitted. “She asked if it bothered me knowing you were in town. I told her that you had every bit as much right to be here as I did, and that I should think people would have better things to do than gossip, especially at Christmas. She didn’t say much to me after that, thank goodness.”

  “What about you?” he asked, turning the question back to her. “Did you volunteer to help your grandmother settle her affairs so you would have an excuse to come back?”

  “I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

  “Would you have come back if you’d known?”

  Would she have come if she’d known she would see Lucas? If she’d had any clue they would end up here in the rock house again? If she’d known they would finally make love, even though it was without promises or commitments or words of love?

  “Yes,” she answered simply.

  Whatever happened from this point, she would allow herself no regrets about this morning.

  Lucas tightened his arm around her, as if her answer pleased him.

  “What are we going to do now?” she asked him.

  “This minute?”

  Suspecting he’d deliberately misinterpreted her, she shook her head. “Are we going to forget about finding my father’s wallet? Write it off as a mystery that will never be solved?”

  Lucas was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know what else to do about it.”

  “You don’t think we should look around? To see if we can find any other clues?”

  “Rachel, it’s been fifteen years since Roger found the bracelet and, presumably, the wallet. Twenty-four years since Nadine and Al disappeared. Even if there’s anything to find, we’re talking about fifty acres of wooded land. It would take weeks, at a minimum, to search it all.”

  They didn’t have weeks. Rachel bit her lip, remembering Lucas’s plans to only stay through Christmas. He’d given no indication that he’d changed his mind.

  “Maybe it’s best to leave the past buried, so to speak,” he went on. “As far as I can tell, the break-in at Emily’s house was completely unrelated to any of this. She’s safe and happy. You and your mother have dealt with the past in your own ways. I’ve got a life in California. What good would it do any of us to start poking around in old scandals?”

  “Maybe we would find some answers to what really happened.”

  “Would it make you feel any better to learn that your father was murdered? Or that he and Nadine buried all evidence of their identities and took off to start a new life together? Or that one of them killed the other, then disappeared? Or maybe that your mother found them together and killed them? Or any of the other half dozen or more scenarios we could come up with if we let our imaginations get out of control?”

  Rachel shivered, suddenly cold. “No. I don’t suppose any of those possibilities would make me feel any better.”

  He pulled her closer. “I didn’t think so.”

  “So you’re saying we should forget it, then. Forget everything.”

  He rested his cheek against her tousled hair. “Not everything.”

  And what was that supposed to mean?

  Rachel shook her head, drawing slightly away from him. “I’m not sure I can dismiss what I’ve found so easily. You’ve had fifteen years to think about what Roger said and to decide it meant nothing. This is all new to me. I need to look into it a bit more.”

  “And just how do you expect to do that? Are you planning on trekking through the woods with a magnifying glass? Nearly everyone who was closely involved with Al and Nadine is dead now.”

  “Everyone except my mother. And my uncle Sam.”

  The mention of her uncle made Lucas frown. But he ignored the name and asked, instead, “You don’t think your mother knows something she hasn’t told you?”

  Rachel couldn’t suppress a grimace at the thought of asking her mother anything about Al’s disappearance. No answer could possibly be worth the melodramatic hysteria that question would surely trigger.

  “No. Mother doesn’t know anything more than we do—not as much, I’m sure. I’ll go through the remainder of Roger’s things. Maybe I’ll find something else. And I haven’t looked through my father’s stuff yet. Mother did the same thing with his stuff as she did with Roger’s—she crammed everything into boxes and demanded that they be taken out of her sight. Maybe my father had something that would give me a clue as to what he was planning.”

  Lucas shook his head. “I think you’re wasting your time, Rachel. If there’d been anything more, Roger would have found it and produced it.”

  She shrugged. “It’s my. time to waste, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. I guess it is,” Lucas said in that cool, neutral voice she’d found so annoying before.

  She pushed herself to her feet, pulling her jacket more snugly around her. “You should probably go back to your family. Emily will want you to be there.”

  Lucas rose more slowly. “Rachel, what’s wrong?”

  She tried to smile. “Nothing. I just hate to keep you from your family at Christmas.”

  “Come with me to Emily’s. There’s plenty of food for one more.”

  Her smile suddenly felt a bit more natural. “Wouldn’t that give the town something to talk about? A Jennings at a McBride family holiday table.”

  Lucas muttered an inelegant suggestion of what the town could do with its gossip. “Will you come with me?”

  “Thank you, but no. I think I’ll go look through Roger’s things while my grandmother is out of the house for a while.”

  “You’re wasting your time.” he said again.

  “Yes.”

  In more ways than one, probably, she almost added.

  She picked up the manila envelope and the book Lucas had given her. “Thank you for the book of poetry. I’ll treasure it always.”

  “I’ll walk you to your car.”

  “No.” She held up a hand to stop him. “This is a walk I’m getting used to making on my own.”

  He scowled, obviously not understanding what she meant. She couldn’t fault him for that; she hardly understood her own behavior at the moment.

  Rachel stepped in front of him and rose on tiptoes to press a kiss against his unsmiling mouth. “Do me one favor, will you, Lucas?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t leave this time without saying goodbye.”

  He was frowning after her when she turned and walked away.

  10

  “So, YOU WANT to tell me where you were all morning?”

  Lucas pulled his attention away from the other side of the room, where Emily and Clay were engaged in a serious-looking board game, and lifted an eyebrow at Wade, who sat in a chair near Lucas. “No.”

  Wade stretched his long legs in front of him and regarded Lucas over a soda can. His expression showed he was definitely in “cop mode,” Lucas found himself thinking.

  “You got a call just after the crack of dawn that obviously concerned you. You filled a thermos wi
th coffee and took off—walking, I noticed—telling us you didn’t know when you would be back. You came back with a frown that stayed all through lunch, and you’ve hardly said three words all afternoon. Did you meet Rachel Jennings?”

  Lucas glanced quickly toward Emily. She was concentrating entirely on Clay, oblivious to the conversation between her brother and her fiancé.

  “Quit being a cop. You’re off duty.”

  “All hell’s going to break loose if her uncle finds out you’re seeing her.”

  “If I were seeing her, she’s a grown woman. She doesn’t answer to her uncle...or to anyone.”

  Wade’s mouth crooked into a wry smile. “Got a Hatfield and McCoy thing going?”

  Lucas didn’t answer. He didn’t actually know what kind of thing he had going with Rachel. She’d acted oddly when she’d left the rock house. Did she regret meeting him there? Was she sorry about what had happened between them?

  Wade was still watching Lucas closely. “You play your cards close to the chest, don’t you? You still haven’t told me why you really came back to Honoria, or what you were hoping to find in those old files of Chief Packer’s. I still don’t know what went on between you and Roger Jennings fifteen years ago, and what’s going on between you and his sister now.”

  “Nothing that’s of any concern to the local cops,” Lucas answered coolly.

  “Are you sure about that?”

  Only an improbable tale of murder and concealment, Lucas thought. He nodded. “I’m sure.”

  The board game must have ended. Emily crossed the room and perched on the arm of Lucas’s chair, leaving Clay to put away the playing pieces.

  Lucas looped his arm around her waist. “Who won?”

  Emily laughed. “Are you kidding? He stomped me. What are you two talking about so seriously over here?”

  “Your fiance was just grilling me about where I went this morning.”

  Emily frowned. “Wade, that’s none of our business.”

  Wade looked ruefully at Lucas. “Very clever,” he murmured.

  “Where you went is your own business,” Emily assured Lucas emphatically, though she couldn’t quite hide the curiosity in her eyes. “We won’t pry.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Wade said. “I get paid for prying.”

  “Not into my brother’s business.”

  Wade looked at Lucas. “That remains to be seen,” he murmured.

  Emily looked warningly at Wade again, then patted Lucas’s shoulder. “Is there anything I can get for you? Something else to eat or drink?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

  “Want to watch me ride my bike, Uncle Lucas?” Clay asked, appearing to hang hopefully on Lucas’s knee.

  “Sure, kid.”

  Wade glumly studied the attention Lucas was receiving. “A lesser man might be jealous at this point.”

  “You can come, too, Daddy,” Clay assured him.

  “Thanks, pal. I’ll do that. Go get your jacket and your helmet.”

  Emily lingered behind with Lucas when Wade and Clay went outside. “It has meant so much to me to have you here today, Lucas.”

  “I’ve enjoyed the visit,” he assured her.

  “Won’t you reconsider staying for the wedding? It just wouldn’t seem complete without you there.”

  “Emily...”

  “Just think about it, okay?”

  He nodded, feeling like a heel—which didn’t seem quite right, since he was only doing what was best for Emily. Wasn’t he? “I’ll think about it.”

  He was rewarded by her quick, bright smile. “At least you didn’t say no.”

  “Uncle Lucas! I’m ready. Come watch me.”

  Clay’s eager shout drifted through the open front door.

  Lucas chuckled and draped his arm around his sister’s shoulders. “Sounds like we’d better get outside.”

  RACHEL FOUND NOTHING else of importance in her brother’s things that afternoon. She went through everything in the attic, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. And she didn’t find anything else that had belonged to her father.

  She waited until her grandmother rose from a long nap after her lunch with the pastor.

  “I’ve been sorting and packing this afternoon,” Rachel said, trying to sound casual about it. “I can’t find any of Dad’s things. Do you know what Mother did with them?”

  “Your uncle Sam offered to store them in that metal building behind his house,” her grandmother replied. “You know how your mother was after your father left. She didn’t want anything that belonged to him left around here. Sam said he would put the things away for you and...and Roger.”

  Rachel grimaced. She wanted to go through her father’s things, but she didn’t want to have to explain her reasons to her uncle. Sam was such a difficult man.

  The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of a couple of ladies from her grandmother’s church, making a Christmas call on their ailing friend. Rachel visited with them for a little while, serving eggnog all around. Then she excused herself, allowing the long-time friends to visit.

  She spent the remainder of the afternoon reading poems from the book Lucas had given her, reliving the morning she’d spent with him—and wondering how she could get to her father’s things without going through her uncle.

  WADE AND EMILY went out Christmas evening to take Clay to a “living Nativity” at the First Baptist Church of Honoria. The church had provided the display every Christmas evening for the past thirty years and it had become a popular community tradition.

  They asked Lucas to join them for the display and then dinner afterward, but he declined. “We don’t really want everyone gawking at me instead of Mary and Joseph, do we?”

  “Why would everyone gawk at you, Uncle Lucas?”

  Lucas ruffled the puzzled child’s hair. “Good question, kid. But it used to be one of the town’s favorite sports.”

  “We’ll be back early,” Emily told him on her way out the door.

  “Take your time. I can entertain myself.”

  He watched them drive away, then closed the door and walked into the living room. The multicolored Christmas-tree lights were reflected from every shiny surface in the room. Clay’s toys lay tumbled on the carpet around the base of the tree, along with a few scattered scraps of colored paper that had been overlooked when Wade had walked through with a trash bag earlier.

  There’d been laughter in the house that moming, Lucas mused. A child’s squeals of joy. Christmas carols playing from Emily’s stereo. The smells of coffee, bacon, made-from-scratch biscuits. Lucas imagined this had been the cheeriest Christmas this old house had seen in many years—maybe ever. He could envision many more happy Christmases to follow, especially when Wade and Emily had more children, as he was sure they would.

  He wanted to be around to see those kids, he realized now. This is what he’d been afraid of—that once his sister was back in his life, he wouldn’t want to let her go again.

  And was he really going to be able to walk away from Rachel again—especially after this morning?

  On an impulse, he picked up the phone and dialed a number he found in the telephone book. He was relieved when Rachel answered.

  “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine, Lucas. I just sent my grandmother off to bed, and I was thinking about turning in early myself.”

  “Tired?”

  “Yes. I didn’t sleep very well last night, after finding...well, you know.”

  “Yes.”

  “Have you had a nice day with your family?”

  “Not bad. I spent most of the afternoon watching Clay ride his new bike.”

  “You’ve become very fond of him, haven’t you?”

  “He’s a cute kid.”

  “They’re going to miss you when you leave.”

  “They’ll be busy starting their new life as a family. The don’t need me hanging around.”

  “Are you...leaving tomorrow?”

>   The faint break in her voice made him frown. Was it going to be as hard for Rachel to walk away as it was for him?

  “I, er, don’t know,” he answered awkwardly. “There are a few more things I might check out here first.”

  “What things?”

  “I thought I might talk to the O’Brien kid. The one who broke into all those houses last fall. Wade said the kid admitted to all the other incidents, but swears he had nothing to do with the attack on Emily. Wade doesn’t believe him. I’d like to hear the kid’s denials myself—just to satisfy my curiosity.”

  “Will you be allowed to talk to him?”

  “I’ll talk to him.” Lucas had no doubt he could get to the kid, one way or another. “Did you go through the rest of your brother’s stuff this afternoon?”

  “Yes. I didn’t find anything of particular interest. I didn’t have a chance to go through my father’s things, though. My grandmother said they’re all stored at my uncle’s house.”

  Lucas scowled—as he always did when Sam Jennings’s name was mentioned. He’d always disliked the guy, and thought his unreasonable hostility toward the McBrides bordered on lunacy. The knowledge that Jennings had been causing trouble for Emily made Lucas want to find him and bash his teeth in.

  But that wasn’t the way he behaved these days, he reminded himself, practicing the hostility-control methods he’d developed since he’d left Honoria. “You aren’t going to tell him what you’re looking for, are you?”

  “What would I tell him?” she asked reasonably. “I don’t know what I’m looking for. But, no. I wasn’t planning to say anything to Sam.”

  Lucas didn’t like the idea of Rachel having anything to do with Sam Jennings, even if he was her uncle. “Maybe it would be best if you leave your father’s stuff alone for now. After all, there’s probably nothing to find. And your uncle is bound to wonder what’s going on.”

  “I’ll tell him I just want to look through the stuff for sentimental reasons. I have every right to my father’s belongings.”

  “I know. I just can’t stand your uncle. I don’t trust him.”