The Gift by Deb Stover Read Free Book Online Page B

invitation.”
    Without speaking, he motioned for her to follow, then turned and lumbered into his house.
    Beth glanced down at the hound and whispered,“If I’m not out of there in one hour, run for the sheriff, Lassie.”
    The dog licked her hand and ambled back to the porch, circled three times, then dropped with a contented sigh.
    Beth stepped over the hound on her way to the screen door. “Big help you’re gonna be.”
    The inside of Heppel’s cabin came as a surprise. It was immaculate, first of all, and furnished with bentwillow and log furniture. Some of the tables had intricate carving, and after a few minutes, she realized all the pieces were handmade—not the type found on a showroom floor.
    She brushed her hand along the back of a rocker with a gorgeous grapevine motif. “You make all these?”
    “Keeps me off the street.” He flashed her a sheepish grin that had “gentle giant” written all over it.
    This guy is a pussycat. And an artist. “It’s beautiful. I hope you charge a fortune for it.”
    “I get lucky now and then.” He pulled out a chair at the table.
    “Can I help?”
    “Set the table if you want. Plates are in there.” He pointed to a cabinet near one of the plastic-covered windows. Beth didn’t ask the questions that sprang to mind—at least, not yet.
    Rick Heppel was a walking, breathing contradiction. The scents of onions, garlic, and ginger filled the room as he stood stir-frying vegetables and spices in a hot wok at the small stove.
    They sat down to eat a spicy mixture of wild rice, greens, seeds, and sprouts that made Beth’s mouthwater. She took one bite and moaned. “This is delicious, even without meat.” She refused to say flesh. “Wow. You make furniture, you cook, and this place is neat as a pin. You’d make someone a great wife.” She grinned, hoping to soften him up a little.
    Rick’s expression grew solemn as he ate his food and sipped his herbal tea. “You might as well know I was in love with Lorilee,” he said at last.
    Beth coughed. She’d suspected something, but having him come right out and say it shocked the hell out of her. “I…see.” She took a sip of herbal tea, though she was more the black-coffee type, and mentally patted herself on the back for trusting her instincts enough to drive out here this evening. It would be dark before she headed back to town, but she was a big girl.
    “So…does Lorilee return your feelings?”
    Rick took a long drink of his tea before answering. His soft brown eyes held a wealth of sadness. Why? Unrequited love? Or had they been lovers, and Lorilee had left him, too?
    “Oh, Lorilee loved me all right,” he finally said. His smile was sad, distant. “She did —like a brother.” He sighed. “Ty was the only man for her.”
    “Ah.” A tangle of emotions warred within Beth. Disappointment. Relief. Jealousy? She couldn’t quite define them, but they all irritated her, and that pissed her off.
    Time to get back to work, Dearborn. “Do you know where Lorilee is, Mr. Heppel?” she asked.
    His fork clattered to the table, making Beth jump. His dark eyes glowered at her. “Lorilee is dead. Period. End of discussion.”
    Beth swallowed the glob of stir-fry stuck in herthroat, washed it down with tea. Yep, a walking contradiction. Gentle one minute, almost violent the next. He outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds, but her martial-arts training would help even the odds. Theoretically…
    Not to mention the knife in her boot and the Glock in her backpack. She nudged the bag with her foot, where it rested on the floor beneath the table.
    Calmly, she rested her hands in her lap and kept her expression bland. “No, Mr. Heppel, it isn’t the end of the discussion. Lorilee’s family wants, needs, and deserves answers.” She drew a deep, steadying breath. “And from a practical standpoint, I have a job to do. An insurance claim has been filed. A large one. And there’s no proof that Lorilee is really