Page 201 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts
“Becky?” Mrs. Jeffries said sharply. “No wonder you’ve been nothing but trouble since you got here. You always were one to go from one mess to another.”
“That’s enough, Moxie.” He fixed her with a stare, and she pressed her lips together.
Tears flooded Becca’s eyes at Moxie’s harsh words. “I always knew you didn’t like me,” she said. She blinked and looked up at Max. “No one has called me Becky in years though. Everyone calls me Becca.”
“You’re here to find out what happened to your parents.”
She nodded, and her lips trembled. “I know they were murdered.”
Max was beginning to understand her motives. “It was an accident.” He softened his voice. “I know it’s hard to accept when something like that happens, but you have to face facts.”
“Then why is someone trying to drive me away?” She held up her arm. “What about this?”
She had a point. “Has someone recognized you?”
“They must have. Only Saija Karola—Korpela knows.”
“Molly’s friend’s mother.”
She nodded. “We recognized one another when I picked up Molly the other day.”
“Could she have told someone?”
“Even if she did, it wouldn’t explain why someone tried to roll the rock on top of me the day after I got here. Or the Windigo figurine on my bed.” She shook her head. “Someone recognized me the day I arrived, and he wants to make sure I don’t find out who killed my parents. But I’m not leaving until I do.”
“Maybe it has nothing to do with your parents. Maybe the explosion really was an accident—a fortuitous one as far as the attacker is concerned. Maybe his main focus is on driving you away to keep you from inheriting. Everyone here stands to lose if your grandmother decides to leave you her money.”
She was shaking her head even as he spoke. “I don’t want Gram’s money.”
“The attacker might not know that.” He wasn’t sure he believed her. Who would turn down an inheritance if it was offered? Tate and Becca were Gram’s grandchildren. They stood to gain the most, as did Becca’s siblings.
And Tate stood to lose the most. Only one grandchild would inherit the bulk of the estate including the house and property. Could Tate be behind this?
Max thought of his own daughter. He needed to protect Molly’s interests too. He pulled Becca’s sleeve down. “There you go. I think you’ll live.”
“Thanks.” She rubbed her arm. “We should call the sheriff and report the attack.”
“I was about to suggest the same thing.” Max went to the phone and dialed. The sheriff promised he’d be out to look around the woods, but Max knew the attacker was long gone.
A thought occurred to him. What if therewasno attacker? Becca could have cut herself. The wound wasn’t deep. Maybe she had done it to garner sympathy from Gram. She had to have known he was suspicious and figured this would be a way to dispel his disfavor and get Gram more firmly in her camp. Maybe she wanted the house and estate.
He wanted to reject that idea and believe Becca wasn’t that devious. Looking at her sipping the tea Mrs. Jeffries brought her, he remembered the way she’d skirted any questions he’d asked. She hadn’t been truthful with him. It made it harder to trust her now. The best he could do was withhold judgment and watch to see what she did.
The sheriff had comeand gone. He’d never been the most ambitious of law personnel, seeming to prefer to let the Baxters handle their own issues. Becca ached all over. All she wanted was to crawl into bed and pull the sheets up to her chin. Reaction had set in, and she felt like she was quivering inside. At least she knew it wasn’t Max who had tried to attack her.
But did she? She watched him carefully over the rim of her teacup. They’d been separated. He could have doubled back and attacked her in the dark. She didn’t know what to believe or who to trust.
God was always trustworthy. She knew God would help her untangle this mess. Faith in him had brought her this far. But she wished she had an ally here in the flesh. She wanted to trust Max, but he had too much to gain by making her disappear. Shewould never do anything to harm Molly’s future, but he didn’t know that.
She put down her cup. “I think I’ll go to bed,” she said. She stood and staggered a bit as she turned.
“Let me help you.” Max was at her side in two steps.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“No, you’re not. You’ve had quite a scare.” His warm fingers closed on her arm, and he steadied her as she went toward the back stairway. He walked her up the steps and down the hall to her room.
“Call me if you need anything,” Max said.
