Chapter 2

 

Scott Jamison had had a long day. He owned and managed Buckeye Knob Camp in Wear’s Valley, and he had been cleaning camp cabins. Spring was here, and he’d soon have his first corporate and group retreats using the grounds and facilities. Plus, visitors would be checking out the camp when they came to the Smokies over the coming months. He needed to start getting everything into shape after the winter.

He’d ended his workday when the first signs of the storm started and he’d come back up to the director’s house where he lived. Scott had showered and then flopped onto the couch for a rest when the first bolt of lightning hit. It sounded like it almost touched down at his grandma’s old house behind the camp. He looked out the back windows of his log home through the trees to see if everything looked all right over there. He could just see the side of the house through the woods.

A light was on. He could see it shining through the twilight. Someone was in the house again. Great. Scott sighed.

This was getting to be a real problem. The area teenagers had learned that the house was sitting vacant, and they had started to sneak into it to party in the last months. Of course, it wasn’t any of the local kids. They all knew him and had known his Grandmother Jamison before she died. The kids breaking in probably lived over toward Sevierville. Who knew how they had heard about the house being empty. But they had. Several times, Scott had phoned the sheriff to come by and deal with them. However, the kids usually got away before the sheriff could catch them and take them in.

Scott dialed Sheriff Hershel Fields. “Hershel, this is Scott Jamison. I think there are kids over at Gramma Jamison’s place again. I can see light through the trees. How far are you from my place?”

“Well, you’re in luck, Scott. I’m just up the road at Blackbear having a bite of dinner. The wife Clara’s having some kind of ladies’ shower at the house and I was trying to make myself scarce for a while until it was all done. I can be over in about ten minutes. By the way, glad to hear you’re getting ready to rent that place for a while. That’ll put an end to all this. When are your renters coming in?”

“Next week some time, I think. It’s some woman professor that wants to get away for a while to take a sabbatical and write a book or something. She’s supposed to call the realty company when she comes in. Mother will probably bring her out since she’s had all the contacts with her from the realty office. Nice staid academic type, she told me. Sounds like a safe bet for Gramma’s place for a while.”

“Well, I’m paying up with Sheila here at the cash register now, Scott. I’ll see you in just a little bit. Maybe we can catch these kids tonight, so they’ll get the idea that using empty houses around the valley isn’t such a good plan.”

Scott hung up the phone and went out to the hall closet to get his rain slicker. On the way he took down his .22 rifle from the gun rack.

The rain started coming down in a fury by the time Scott walked the short path through the woods and crossed the footbridge over Honey Lick Branch. The creek formed a boundary line between the camp property and the Jamison farm that had been his grandparents. Scott skirted around the back of the house to let himself quietly in through the kitchen door with his spare key. He could hear someone hauling stuff into the house and dumping it on the floor just inside the front door. Amazing that kids would even want to be out and getting into trouble on a foul night like this. There was one heck of a storm coming in now.

Scott stood waiting, dripping on the kitchen floor, until he heard Hershel’s car starting to come up the drive, then he turned and started up the hallway of the farmhouse. A girl who had been coming down the hall stopped suddenly, startled at his presence in the house, her eyes growing huge as she caught sight of his rifle. Her hands flew automatically to cover her heart.

Scott raised his rifle and gave her a cold stare. “Party’s over. Sheriff’s on the way. Better tell your friends to get on in here, too, before the Sheriff comes. He’ll want to talk to all of you about breaking and entering. This is private property, you know, not a place where you can hang out and smoke dope or get drunk. I want you to get the word out that this house isn’t available for kids to party in.”

The girl stood speechless for a few minutes, her breath heaving in and out in short gasps. She was obviously scared to death. Good, Scott thought. She had a right to be. The old farmhouse was still filled with all his gramma’s old furniture and possessions. The last time a group partied here, they’d left a nasty mess Scott had spent a half-day cleaning up. Nothing had been stolen, but Scott figured his luck was about to run out on that option if the place stayed empty.

“Where are your friends?” he asked her curtly. “No one’s going to get hurt here, girl. But none of you are going to be partying here tonight, and that’s a fact.”

“Who are you?” the girl finally rasped out.

“I’m Scott Jamison. I own Buckeye Knob Camp and the property next door. This was my Gramma Jamison’s place, and this is Jamison land you are on.”

The girl straightened up then, beginning to catch her breath. Then something in her expression changed gradually from fear to challenge.

She flashed him a defiant look. “I’m not a teenager here to have a party hour, Mr. Jamison. I have a legal right to be here, and I do not appreciate being nearly frightened out of my mind by you waving a gun around in here and threatening me.”

Hershel came stomping into the house about that time. Seeing Scott with his rifle raised, he looked off down the hallways and into the parlor and the front bedroom, before joining Scott and the girl in the hall.

He took off his hat to shake out some of the water. “I don’t see any more kids in here. Maybe they all took off when they heard me drive up.”

“There weren’t any more kids,” Vivian announced primly. “And do you think you could ask your cowboy friend here to put his gun down now?”

Hershel gave Scott a look, and Scott lowered his rifle.

“Look here, girl,” Hershel began. “This here’s private property and ….”

“I assume you’re the sheriff.” Vivian interrupted before he could finish.

“Sheriff Hershel Fields.” He studied Vivian more closely now. “You’re a little old for this vagrancy stuff, aren’t you, girl? Usually it’s teenagers that do this kind of thing.”

“Thank you for noticing that, at least,” Vivian snapped back. “And since you didn’t ask my name, let me provide it. I’m Dr. Vivian Delaney and I’m the new renter for this house. I know I’ve arrived a little earlier than I’d been scheduled to, but I certainly didn’t expect to be met with a gun and a threat. I paid March’s rent in advance before I came, and legally I have every right to be in this house.”

Hershel raised an eyebrow at Scott. “Is this your new renter?”

“I’m not sure.” Scott studied the girl more intently, beginning to get an odd feeling about this whole situation now.

“I have identification in my purse on the entry table in the hallway.” She pointed behind her toward the door. “You can check it out if you like.”

She smiled at them sweetly then, beginning to realize she had the upper hand.

Hershel grinned sheepishly back.

“There’s California plates on her Blazer, Scott. Where did you say this professor renter of yours was coming from?”

“I didn’t say.” Scott frowned. “All I knew was that she was from out west.”

“Well, California’s out west sure enough. And I didn’t see no sign that anybody broke in, so I’d say it’s safe to say that this here is your new renter, Scott.” He chuckled a little, seeming to enjoy the joke.

The sheriff turned to Vivian and held out his hand. “Welcome to the valley, Dr. Delaney. Sorry we got you confused and caused you a little undue stress tonight.”

Vivian put her hand in his tentatively and then quickly withdrew it, not overly eager to be cordial yet.

“Some teenagers have been coming over here and causing trouble on the weekends,” he explained. “And so, naturally, when we saw the lights we thought some kids had come over and broken in again. We was hoping to catch them.”

Hershel tried another smile her way. “I hope you’ll understand that it was an honest mistake we made catching you instead. I’d say the fault is a little yours as well, ma’am. You’re early to arrive and you didn’t call your realtor to tell her you were here. That realtor is Scott’s mother. If you’d contacted her, she’d have called Scott, and Scott would have known that the lights in this house were legit. Might have saved us all getting out in the wet tonight.”

“You have some very good points there, Sheriff Fields,” Vivian conceded. “But, of course, Mr. Jamison could have simply asked me who I was before he pulled a gun on me, too.”

Scott scowled in irritation. “Now, listen here. The last time a bunch of kids broke in the house, some of them were doing drugs and alcohol. Kids like that are dangerous to themselves and to others. I didn’t want any trouble tonight.”

“Well, it looks like you got some, anyway,” she replied tartly.

The sheriff hid another smile with his hand and put his rain-drenched hat back on. “Well, I’ll be off now. Scott, why don’t you walk me out to the car? I’ll need you to sign a report about my visit.”

Scott trailed out behind Hershel and back into the rain again. The earlier torrent had now diminished to a slow drizzle.

“What report?” he demanded, as soon as they got out of earshot of the house. “I’ve never needed to sign a report about this before, Hershel.”

“I was just needing an excuse to get on out of that house.” Hershel laughed. “And I figured I might get you out of there, too, before she decided to scratch your eyes out. Whooee! That girl was mad! She was containing it real professional like, but she was mad as a wet hen. Too bad things are starting out so frosty between you and your new renter, Scott.”

“Why’s that, Hershel? She’s just renting the house.”

“Boy, you must be blind as well as stupid.” He grinned. “That’s one fine, gorgeous young woman you’ve got moving into your Gramma’s place, not some old lady academic like you told me was moving in. I mean, I may be a married man, but I got eyes. And with that soaked down t-shirt and jeans, it was hard not to look. I didn’t see no ring on her finger, neither.” He laughed again and punched at Scott. “You sure were wrong about this renter being safe and quiet. I’ll bet you the young men will be lining up out here to see her if her educational credentials don’t scare them all off.” He smirked again.

Scott pulled the hood of his slicker over his head with a jerk of annoyance. “I’m glad you’re seeing this all as so funny.”

“Aw, your pride’s just wrinkled from being made a fool of.” Hershel cuffed Scott on the arm with affection. “Happens to me all the time. It’ll pass off, boy. Get on in out of the rain now, and try to make nice with your new tenant and make things up.”

Hershel climbed into his car and gave Scott another wave goodbye before he closed the door and started up the motor. Scott watched him pull away before he slogged back up on the farmhouse porch. He reached for the door, and found it locked tight. His gun was now propped outside the door.

He sighed. It just wasn’t worth the effort to push for more tonight. It was getting late, he was soaking wet, and he hadn’t eaten dinner yet. It could wait until tomorrow. He picked up his rifle, headed back down off the porch, and started for home.