Her Mysterious Houseguest

“I still don’t understand why you want to talk to her.”

Evaluating her comments, Mikel decided she didn’t sound particularly defensive, just curious. Those soft brown eyes hadn’t blinked too many or too few times and she met his gaze normally. Liars tended to either look away or keep fixed on the person they spoke to.

“I realize you must want to know what I’m doing here in Ojibway,” he said. “Fourteen years ago a girl disappeared from her home back East. Her name is Renee Reynaud and she was thirteen at the time. I’m searching for her.”

Though she didn’t respond immediately, he noted that Rachel’s expression of polite curiosity didn’t change, reassuring him of her honesty. “I don’t understand why you’re searching here,” she said.

“Leo Saari was one of Rachel’s teachers and she sometimes baby-sat his daughter. He left that same New Jersey community about the time Rachel disappeared and I learned that he’d come to Ojibway. I’m checking out every possible connection. I was hoping Aino would be able to tell me if Leo had a red-haired little girl with him when he arrived here, but I don’t want to pester him with questions until he’s recovered. Eva may be able to remember a few things about Renee that might help me.”

“Eva was only eight when her father returned home. She might be rather hazy about an early baby-sitter.”

“You’re protective of Eva.”

Rachel gave him a level look. “Maybe so. I tend to feel like her older sister. But as for asking if Leo arrived here with a red-haired girl, I can answer that. Like everyone else around Ojibway, I know the only people with him were his wife and daughter Eva. Poor Mrs. Saari died not long after they got here.”

He had no reason not to believe her, though he’d ask around to be sure. “I’d still like to talk to Eva, even if I have to wait until she gets back. I don’t expect you to put me up for what may be several weeks so I’ll look for—”

Rachel cut him off. “Aino will be upset if you don’t stay at the farm. It’s his way of repaying you for your timely help.”

Mikel didn’t argue. It suited him to be right where he was, handy to those who might offer some clues to what had happened to Renee. Not to mention seeing more of Rachel, whether that was wise or not.

“Is that what you do for a living?” Rachel asked “Search for missing persons?”

“It’s part of my job, yes.” Which it was. She didn’t need to know those he searched for were usually criminals. “What do you do?”

“I teach English and drama at the Ojibway High School.” She rose and began clearing the table, declining his help.

When she served the coffee, she also brought a plate of chocolate cookies with chocolate frosting. “My compliments to the chef,” he said after the first bite.

She smiled, the first genuine smile she’d given him. “Those are Aunt Sally’s Cocoa Drops, but don’t ask who Aunt Sally is. No one has a clue.”

He’d noticed there was no automatic dishwasher so he said, “I do know my way around a kitchen, thanks to Grandma Sonia, who insisted chores were a unisex thing, not divided into male and female duties. I’ll help you with the dishes as thanks for a great meal.”

“Did your grandmother live with you?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Like you, I was orphaned young. My grandparents raised me.”

“Then you can understand how much Aino means to me. I’d do anything for him.”

She sounded so fierce he smiled inwardly. Rachel was protective of her own, a trait he could understand.

After they finished the coffee and cookies, he pitched in to help clean up and she didn’t argue. He found he enjoyed working alongside her, leading him to wonder what it’d be like if he actually had a permanent home and someone to share it with. Back off from that thought, Starzov, he warned himself. Even if that’s what you wanted, and it’s decidedly not, this gal is off-limits.

“I’m going to the hospital to visit Aino,” she told him when they finished.

Despite knowing better, he wanted to prolong that feeling of companionship. “I’ll drive you, if you like,” he offered.

“Nice of you, but no thanks.”

“Then I presume it’s good-night.” He headed for the back door as he spoke.

She followed, saying, “If you like you can have breakfast here.”

He paused, turning to look at her. “I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality. Just give me the name of a good place to eat in town.”

“Sylvia’s. It’s near the bridge. Well, good night, then.”

He hesitated, fighting the crazy impulse to kiss her in parting, then left the house. As he sauntered toward the cottage he saw the clouds had parted, giving him a view of the darkening evening sky where a single star shone. He glanced at the black barn and the other outbuildings with the feeling something was missing. A dog, that’s what. Most farms he’d been to in line with his job had dogs that threatened intruders. The Saaris didn’t. Yet here he was, the intruder.

Smoke rose from the cottage chimney, a welcome reminder it would be warm inside. In the morning, he’d have breakfast at Sylvia’s where, if he was lucky, he could begin the process of what his boss called “chatting up the townsfolk,” usually a good source of information if done casually enough. Most people loved to talk.

Once inside, he checked the place where he’d cached his gun to be sure it was there. This wasn’t the kind of case where he anticipated needing a gun, but he’d learned never to take chances. Easing down into the armchair, he stared into the fire, reduced now to half-burned logs licked by tiny flames. Knowing exactly where his gun was reassured him even though nothing threatened him here. Nothing but a long-legged gal with dark hair, warm brown eyes and a body that fit against his just right. He’d avoided brunettes since Yolanda—that treacherous woman from his past—but Rachel was so very different from the women he usually met—no sharp edges, no hidden agendas.

Careful about snap judgments, man, he warned himself. You don’t really know her, just like you didn’t really know Yolanda and your carelessness there damn near killed you.

But Yolanda was in the past. Behind him for good. There was no danger in admiring Rachel. He closed his eyes, imagining she’d come back to the cottage with him. All he had to do was pull her down onto his lap and….

Enough! Damned if he wasn’t fantasizing like a fool high school kid. One with a crush on his English teacher. Which probably every male student in her class did have. Relax. Savor the comfort you’re enjoying here and now. Most cases don’t set you up in such cozy surroundings. Take it easy.

He tried one of the breathing techniques he’d been taught, but Yolanda’s image returned to plague him.

He’d trusted her, been completely taken in by her act. No excuse. A special agent knew better. He’d been lucky not to get booted out of the agency for blowing the case. Would have been if Steve hadn’t stood up for him.

Two nights ago he’d had that blasted recurring nightmare about what had happened. He didn’t believe in dreams as warnings, but, as he eased into bed, he told himself maybe he ought to begin doing just that here and now.

Back from the hospital, Rachel got ready for bed, wondering why on earth Aino had insisted she bring Mikel to see him tomorrow. She’d reminded him only relatives could visit the ICU, but he’d insisted he’d be moving to a regular room first thing in the morning so there’d be no problem. Since this was no time to burden him with any kind of worry, she hadn’t said anything about why Mikel was in Ojibway.

Mikel had told her he didn’t want to question Aino while he was recuperating, but could she trust him to keep his word? Her experience with men other than Leo and Aino had been that they always looked out for themselves first. Why should Mikel be different? And why did she want him to be? What was there about him that appealed to her against her will?

Not his looks, great as those were. She felt drawn to him in a way she didn’t understand. Perhaps it was because they’d shared that worrisome time in the hospital waiting room while Aino was being examined. Whatever it was, she’d do well to forget about sharing anything else with Mikel. He was here only to find a missing girl, and when he discovered she was nowhere around, he’d leave.

Strange, though, she’d had the oddest feeling he was going to kiss her there at the back door when they said good-night. Naturally, she wouldn’t have let him. Would she? Shaking her head, she glanced from her bedroom window, seeing the light still on in the cottage. With a sigh, she slid under the covers, knowing sleep would take its time coming….

The path ahead wound through the trees where deep shadows lay in wait. If there’d been any other way to get where she needed to go, she would have chosen it. If only she weren’t alone, but she knew she had to be, part of the test was being alone. This time she wouldn’t fail, this time she’d reach her goal. Still, she hesitated before taking her first step into that dark woods. She hated not being able to see if any danger lurked in the shadows.

Since there was no choice but to go on, she took a fortifying breath and plunged into the darkness, trying not to panic, not to run lest she lose the trail. Her arms prickled with goose bumps as she felt unknown menace on either side. A noise from behind made her spine crawl with dread. If she turned to look, what might she see? Despite herself, she began to hurry faster and faster, her head turning from side to side as she watched the shadows.

Because she wasn’t paying attention to where she stepped, she tripped and started to fall. But something caught her, held her up. Rescuing her? As she stared at the dark figure who held her, a moonbeam slipped through the trees to light up his eyes. Green hunter’s eyes. She tried to scream but no sound emerged, tried to break free but couldn’t move. He’d trapped her….

Rachel sat bolt upright in bed, heart pounding. For a moment or two the dream clung to her so that she couldn’t orient herself, then reason returned. She was safe in her own room, in her own bed. Safe and sound.

But for how long?

Taking a deep breath, she brushed aside that thought. Rachel Hill could control her own destiny. Hadn’t she been doing just that for more years than she cared to count? She was secure in herself, which she ought to be, considering all the practice she’d had.

Mikel Starzov might be the most attractive and sexy man she’d ever met, but he was an outsider and would be leaving in a week or so. The threat he posed would be gone, and they’d all be safe again.

Why, then, did she remember so clearly how he’d comforted her in the ER waiting room, holding her against him, letting her draw strength from the contact. If she’d felt a tad more than comfort, that was her business. Certainly he’d never find out. It was as simple as that.