Christmas In Whitehorn Part 21

The familiar warmth, the heat, the pa.s.sion all combined to sweep her away. Need poured through her.Need and a sense of being where she belonged. With Mark- A sharp sound cut through the night.Sirens. Mark straightened and glanced out the windshield. From their place above the city they could see several fire trucks racing across town.

"It's the whole fire crew," Mark said. "I wonder what's burning." He reached for the parking brake,then glanced back at her. "I'm sorry. I know this is a mood breaker. But there have been some strange occurrences in town lately and this fire may be related. Do you mind if we check it out?"

She shook her head. Mark had gone into cop mode. There was no point in protesting his actions. Even if she convinced him to stay here, she wouldn't have his attention. The sooner they found out about the fire, the sooner they could be back in each other's arms. At least that was her fantasy.

They followed the sounds of the sirens. Eventually they were able to see the flames reaching up toward the sky. Darcy glanced around to get her bearings. Her stomach tightened as she recognized the street and the neighborhood. An awful feeling took root inside and began to grow. Mark pulled up behind the last fire truck and got out. She climbed down after him and stared at the eerie nightmare dancing toward the stars.

Horror swept over her as she watched angry fire destroy the Hip Hop Cafe. They stood well away from the engulfed building, but even from this distance the heat was nearly overwhelming. With each breath, she inhaled the scent of destruction as the cafe was reduced to nothing.

The sound surprised her the most. The fire roared as it consumed. Walls creaked and groaned, beams snapped, steam from the water hissed. The ceiling crashed onto the floor.

Darcy couldn't believe what was happening. Two hours ago the Hip Hop had been right where it was supposed to be and now it was disappearing before her eyes. People gathered around them, some talking quietly, others caught up in the awesome power of the flames.

Darcy wasn't sure how long she watched. Gradually the fire grew smaller. The smoke changed from dark to light as the firefighters won their battle. Eventually there was nothing left but a pile of steaming rubble.

It was only then that Darcy realized what she'd lost. Not just her baking contract, but her job. Every source of income had just gone up in flames. Tears burned in her eyes. She turned to Mark to speak with him, only to find him in conversation with the sheriff and someone from the fire department.

"I'll find out," he was saying. He glanced at her. "Darcy, were you the last person in the building?" He asked the question casually, as if inquiring about the weather. Yet it only took a second for the meaning of his words to sink into her brain. She'd closed the restaurant. This could all be her fault!

She grabbed his coat sleeve. "Mark. I know I turned everything off.The stove, the lights.All of it. There's a checklist for closing up. I don't do it very often, so I was working from the list, not from memory."

"I know. It's all right."

She wanted to believe him, but there was something scary in his eyes.A distance.

He put his arm around her and drew her closer. Not to comfort her, she realized, but so that she could speak directly to the sheriff and fire chief.

"Tell them what happened," he said.

Darcy outlined her last hour in the restaurant. She detailed as much of what she'd done to close up as possible. Her shaking voice made the telling a little difficult, but both men were patient. They asked her a few questions, only to be interrupted by the arrival of Melissa North, the owner of the Hip Hop Cafe, and a firefighter carrying a charred gas can in his hand.

"It was in the alley," he said, handing it to the fire chief."Right by the back door."

Darcy's head began to spin. Melissa gave a cry of alarm. "I don't understand," she said.

"Neither dowe ," the sheriff told her. "But we're going to get to the bottom of this."

He and the fire chief moved a short distance away. Darcy couldn't hear what they were saying. She turned and saw that Mark had disappeared into the milling crowd. She felt very alone.

"I'm really sorry," she forced herself to say. Her lips felt thick and it was difficult to speak. "I swear, Melissa, I didn't do anything to start this fire."

Her boss brushed away tears. "I believe you. If they've found a gas can, then it's unlikely the fire was started by an electrical short or a burner left on. I guess-" She gave a soft cry. "I guess I'm going to have to remodel after all."

A tall man appeared and put his arms around Melissa. Darcy recognized her husband, Wyatt North. He led his wife away. Darcy noticed that everyone else seemed to have a friend or loved one to lean on. Only she stood by herself.

"Ma'am, we're going to have to speak with you again."

Darcy turned and saw the fire chief. "I don't understand.About what?"

"The fire.We'll want to go over what you remember."

"But the gas can. Isn't that how it started?"

"It's too soon for us to know." He gave her a slight smile. "No one is accusing you of anything. However, we will ask you not to leave town in the next couple of days. We have a lot of information to collect."

Darcy nodded because she couldn't speak. She could barely breathe. She had no job, no baking contract,no income at all and now she was being told not to leaveWhitehorn ?

"How you doing?"

She turned and saw Mark. Relief swept through her. Thank G.o.d, he was still here. She reached for him, needing to feel his arms around her, offering comfort. Instead, he pressed keys into her hand.

"I've got to get into the sheriff's Office," he said absently, not even looking at her. "Take the truck and head home. I don't know when I'll be able to leave work, but I'll have someone drive me home when I can get away."

He gave her a quick, meaningless smile and disappeared into the milling crowd. Darcy was left standing alone.

Chapter Fifteen.

Sheriff Rafe Rawlings arrived at Darcy's place just before nine the next morning. "Just a few simple questions," he saidpo -litely as she slipped into the front seat of his car.

She tried to tell herself that the good news was he hadn't put her in back, where the criminals sat. Nor had he slapped on handcuffs. As they drove off, she glanced back at the duplex. Mark's truck still sat in his carport. As far as she could tell, he hadn't been home all night, nor had he arrived that morning. Wherewas he and what was he thinking?

Three hours later she still didn't have an answer. She'd answered questions until her throat was sore. No, she hadn't seen anyone suspicious hanging around the cafe. Yes, she'd turned off the stove and unplugged both coffee stations before leaving. She explained about the checklist and how she'd followed it so closely because she wasn't used to closing up at night.

That statement had brought a whole new line of questioning. Why had she suddenly asked to work that night if she didn'tusually. Darcy tried to stay calm.

"I didn't request the shift change. There was a whole big mess with scheduling." She cupped her hands around the coffee the sheriff's secretary had provided and tried not to wonder if her interview was being taped or recorded without her knowledge. "One of the waitresses needed time off in the afternoon for a birthday party for her daughter. Somebody on nights needed to work a morning shift. Someone else had a doctor's appointment. We all switched everything around and no one was willing to fill in at night."

She glanced at the sheriff and tried to smile. She doubted she was successful. "Thepeople who work it, really like it. The rest of us try to avoid it. Finally I said I'd close. It doesn't happen very often and I try to cooperate so that if I ever need to change, people are willing to trade with me."

Rafe didn't look at her as he scribbled on a pad. Darcy folded her arms over her chest. While the temperature in the room felt pleasant, she was chilled all the way to her soul. Her stomach tightened every time she thought about Mark. Why hadn't she seen him? Was he really busy or was he avoiding her? She hadn't done anything wrong, but would he believe her? Did he think that once again he'd gotten involved with a criminal? Was this situation reminding him of the one with Sylvia?

The sheriff walked her through the evening again. Darcy felt exhausted. Some of it was the interview, but most of it was probably shock and the fact that she hadn't slept the previous night. No matter how many times she showered, she couldn't get the smell of smoke out of her memory.

"That's it for now," Rafe told her. "You'll be hearing from the arson investigator. He'll want to talk with you probably later today."

She nodded. "I lost my job when the Hip Hop burned down. I won't be going anywhere."

Rafe didn't seem overly sympathetic. "One of my men will drive you home. Thank you for your time, Ms. Montague."

She thought about asking if she was now allowed to leave the city, but she didn't want to start trouble. No doubt the sheriff would want to know why. When she was up to visiting her brother, she would call the sheriff's office and make sure it was all right with them.

Mark wasn't home when Darcy was dropped off by a young deputy. She knocked on his door for several minutes, even though she knew it was pointless. His paper still lay in front of his porch.

She grabbed it,then headed for her own place. After fixing coffee, she sat down at the table to distract herself with the headlines. Maybe she could even work up enough energy to look through the want ads, now that she needed a job. Anything to keep her from thinking that it had been way too long since Mark had disappeared the previous night. He'd given her his truck to get home, but he'd never said he would call. And he hadn't.

What was he thinking? Did he blame her for the fire? Had he disappeared from her life for good?

Pain stabbed through her chest. She gulped in a breath, wishing it was some medical problem that could be fixed by a pill or more exercise only she knew it was something much harder to cure. She ached for the loss of all she'd ever wanted.

After being alone for so long, she'd finally allowed herself to get involved and fall in love with someone. After five years of struggling, she was nearly in reach of some financial peace of mind. In a matter of one evening, everything had been taken away from her.

Just to make things even worse than that, she might still be a suspect in the fire.

Her mind raced.Whitehorn wasn't a big place. Where would she find another job? What about Dirk? She had to keep him in theMadisonSchool. There might be some financial aid. Lord knows she was more dest.i.tute now than she'd ever been. Maybe she should call Andrew and talk to him. She reached for the phone only to remember that he was on vacation the week between Christmas and New Year's.

Darcy resisted the urge to curl up in a ball. Somehow she had to find the strength to pull it all together. The past five years had taught her how to be a survivor. She would get through this and move on with her life. If that meant getting over Mark, she would do it.

But the thought of being without him hurt too much.To keep from focusing on her pain, she opened the paper and scanned the headlines. There was a picture of what was left of the Hip Hop and a long article. She read it through, at first only noticing that she wasn't listed as a suspect. Then she actually absorbed what the article said. Her mouth dropped open.

"Treasure ChestOf Gold And Jewelry Found In Cafe Foundation."

Darcy blinked.Gold and jewelry?In the foundation of the Hip Hop? Was it possible?

She read the article more carefully, but there weren't any more details.Just the mention that "the sheriff's office was investigating."

Where on earth had it come from? Was the treasure the reason for the fire? Had someone found out about it and been trying to steal it?

Someone who needed money?

Darcy's heart sank. She would certainly qualify under those circ.u.mstances and Mark knew it.

She wadded up the paper and tossed it across the room. She had to do something, anything, to keep herself from going crazy. She rose and headed for the living room. There were open boxes under the tree. Maybe if she straightened up, or even gave the place a good cleaning, she could keep from thinking about the disaster that was her life.

She cleared out boxes and wrapping pa- per, shoving everything into the large carton that had held herbakeware . As she worked, she tried not to remember how perfect Christmas Eve and Christmas Day had been. How Mark had been so generous to her and the way he'd really seemed to enjoy the time they'd spent at Dirk's school.

Her fingers closed around the small box containing the lottery tickets he'd given her. Hey, maybe one of them would be worth a million dollars and all her problems would be solved.

She dug in her pocket for a coin and sat on the sofa. After placing the tickets on the coffee table, she began to scratch off the first one.

Nothing, she thought in disgust. The second one had a prize of two dollars. She'd just cleared the first box on the third ticket exposing a prize of a hundred thousand dollars when the phone rang. She glanced at the ticket.A hundred grand? In what lifetime would that happen? Then she reached for the receiver.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Darcy,it's Mark."

The connection was garbled. She could barely understand the words. Even so her heart began to beat wildly as her spirits rose.

"Mark? Where are you? What's going on?"

"I'm-"

The phone line snapped and popped. She could tell he was talking, but she couldn't make out the words.

"-and I wanted to tell you goodbye."

She froze. "Goodbye?"

"Darcy, you know I have to do this. I'm sorry. I'll-"

He was gone.

She stared at the phone, then pushed frantically on the disconnect b.u.t.ton. When that didn't work, she punched in the code to dial the number of her last call. She waited impatiently until a computerized recording said that cell phone was not currently available.

For nearly an hour she hovered by the phone, pacing, begging, praying that Mark would call back andexplain . Finally she knew she couldn't keep fooling herself. She might not have heard everything he said, but she'd heard enough. He'd wanted to tell her goodbye.Because he'd decided to end things with her.

She sank onto the sofa and buried her face in her hands. What had made him walk away from her?The fire? Did he really think she was responsible? He couldn't. What would she have to gain by burning down the Hip Hop? The fire had left her with no job and no baking contract. What was he thinking? Or wasn't he? Was he just reacting, the way he had about the money laundering?

Or was it worse than that? Had he realized she was now dest.i.tute and still had to pay for her brother's schooling? Did he not want to be bothered with someone in trouble? Or was it that he'd never really cared about her? Had she just been fooling herself into thinking that she was more than cheap, easy s.e.x?

Tears spilled from her eyes. She gave in to the loneliness and pain, sobbing until her throat hurt. She cried for all the time she'd spent alone and how she'd tried to do everything right, only to end up where she'd started. Abandoned and broke.

"No!" she said aloud,then sniffed. "I won't wallow in self-pity. It doesn't change anything and it only saps my strength."

She slapped her hands on the coffee table and sent the lottery tickets flying. She gazed at the one for two dollars. Like that would help. She crumpled the one that hadn't had a prize, then idly scratched the ticket with the hundred-thousand-dollar square exposed. The next square matched.

Darcy gasped. No way, she thought. She needed three matching to win. There was not going to be another hundred-thousand-dollar square. Life wasn't that easy.

She moved the coin back and forth.Two dollars.Ten dollars.Fifty dollars.

One hundred thousand dollars.

She dropped the coin and stood up so suddenly she felt faint. She couldn't believe it.A hundred thousand dollars? Had she really won that?

She screamed out loud. She was saved! With that kind of money she could pay for Dirk's schooling, put money in the bank and not have to worry. She could work to support herself without sweating her bills every month. She could- She paused in mid happy-dance. Her shoulders slumped and the dark cloud returned. This wasn't her money. Mark had given her the ticket, but he wouldn't have if he'd known what it was worth. She couldn't keep it. Not with how things had ended. She didn't want money from him. It was too much like being paid for services rendered.

Darcy left for the sheriff's office shortly after eight the next morning. She still hadn't slept and she felt likeroadkill . It had taken her hours to compose a note to tuck in with the ticket. She'd wanted to say the right thing without giving away how much Mark had hurt her. She'd tried for flip but was afraid she'd simply come off as b.i.t.c.hy. So be it, she told herself as she drove through town. He could think ill of her if he liked. The bottom line was she was giving him a hundred thousand dollars.

When she reached the sheriff's office, she asked after Mark but was told he was out of town. She left the sealed envelope with the desk clerk,then returned home. Today she would start looking for work, she told herself. She would also begin the process of finding another steady baked-goods customer. There were other restaurants in town. Maybe even a coffee shop in a business office.Or what about selling things in a kiosk at the mall? She would make a few calls,then prepare some samples. If she- Darcy turned into her driveway. She jammed on the brakes when she saw someone sitting on her front step.Someone who looked familiar.

Slowly she eased forward, then stopped in front of the duplex and turned off her car. She got out, not sure she could believe her eyes.

"Mark?"

He rose and smiled at her. Some of the pain in her heart eased a little. This was not the smile of a man who had moved on.

"You make me crazy," he said by way of greeting. He approached her, stopping when he was in front of her. "I tried to explain everything yesterday, but I was in a bad area for my cell phone and when we got cut off, I couldn't get you back."