siren now, through the air as well as the telephone. She could also hear Grams coming out of her bedroom.
"I could go down—" Rachel began, with some incoherent thought of identifying Tyler to the chief.
"No." The snapped word left no doubt in her mind. "I'll call you back on this line when we've cleared the place. Then you can come pick up your straying guest, but not until then."
She had no choice but to disconnect. The change in tone of the siren's wail as it turned down Crossings Road was reassuring. They'd be there soon. Tyler would be all right.
Grams reached her. "What is it, Rachel? What's happening?"
Rachel put her arm around Grams, as much for her comfort as her grandmother's. "Tyler saw a light moving around in the farmhouse. He insisted on going down there by himself, but the police are on their way."
Grams shook her head. "Foolish, but I suppose he wouldn't be one to sit back when there's trouble."
No, he probably wouldn't. It didn't take a long acquaintance with Tyler to know that much about him.
"I still wish he hadn't. If he runs right into whoever's there—"
"I'm sure he'll be sensible about it." Grams's voice was matter-of-fact. "The police are probably there by now."
She'd thought she'd have to comfort her grandmother, but it seemed to be working the other way around. Grams patted her shoulder.
"I'll start some hot chocolate. He'll be chilled to the bone, I shouldn't wonder, running out on a cold night like this."
She followed Grams to the kitchen, phone still in her hand, watching as her grandmother paused for a moment, head bowed.
Dear Lord, I should be turning to You, too, instead of letting worry eat at me. Please, be with Tyler and protect him from harm.
Even as she finished the prayer, the telephone rang. Exchanging glances with Grams, she answered.
"You can come on down here now, if you want." The chief sounded exasperated, which probably meant they hadn't been in time to catch anyone. "Maybe help Mr. Dunn figure out what's missing."
Questions hovered on her tongue, but better to wait until she saw what was going on. "I'll be right there."
It took a moment to reassure Grams that she'd be perfectly safe, another to grab her jacket and shove Barney back from the door, and she ran out and slid into the car, shivering a little.
She shot out the drive and turned onto Crossings Road with only a slight qualm as she passed the place where she'd been hit.
Why? The question beat in her brain as she drove down the road as quickly as the rough surface would allow. If someone was in the house, why? More specifically, why now? It had stood empty all these years and been broken into more than once. Why would someone break in now, when surely most people knew that the new owner was here?
Lots of questions. No answers.
She turned into the rutted lane that led to the farmhouse, slowing of necessity. The police car, its roof light still rotating, sat next to Tyler's car. Its headlights showed her Chief Burkhalter's tall figure, standing next to the porch.
Tyler sat on the edge of the porch, head bent, one hand massaging the back of his neck.
She pulled to a stop and slid out, hurrying toward them. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine." Tyler frowned at the chief. "There was no need for him to call you."
"There was every need." She hoped her tone was brisk enough to disguise the wobble in her tummy. "You're hurt. Let me see."
Ignoring his protests, she ran her hand through the thick hair, feeling the lump gingerly.
He winced. "Are you a nurse as well as a chef?"
"No, but I know enough to be sure you should have some ice on that."
"I offered to take him to the E.R. or call paramedics," the chief said. "He turned me down."
"I don't need a doctor. I've had harder knocks than that on the football field. And the ice can wait until we've finished here."
"Just go over it once more for me," Burkhalter said, apparently accepting him at his word. "You saw the lights from your window at the inn, you
"I could go down—" Rachel began, with some incoherent thought of identifying Tyler to the chief.
"No." The snapped word left no doubt in her mind. "I'll call you back on this line when we've cleared the place. Then you can come pick up your straying guest, but not until then."
She had no choice but to disconnect. The change in tone of the siren's wail as it turned down Crossings Road was reassuring. They'd be there soon. Tyler would be all right.
Grams reached her. "What is it, Rachel? What's happening?"
Rachel put her arm around Grams, as much for her comfort as her grandmother's. "Tyler saw a light moving around in the farmhouse. He insisted on going down there by himself, but the police are on their way."
Grams shook her head. "Foolish, but I suppose he wouldn't be one to sit back when there's trouble."
No, he probably wouldn't. It didn't take a long acquaintance with Tyler to know that much about him.
"I still wish he hadn't. If he runs right into whoever's there—"
"I'm sure he'll be sensible about it." Grams's voice was matter-of-fact. "The police are probably there by now."
She'd thought she'd have to comfort her grandmother, but it seemed to be working the other way around. Grams patted her shoulder.
"I'll start some hot chocolate. He'll be chilled to the bone, I shouldn't wonder, running out on a cold night like this."
She followed Grams to the kitchen, phone still in her hand, watching as her grandmother paused for a moment, head bowed.
Dear Lord, I should be turning to You, too, instead of letting worry eat at me. Please, be with Tyler and protect him from harm.
Even as she finished the prayer, the telephone rang. Exchanging glances with Grams, she answered.
"You can come on down here now, if you want." The chief sounded exasperated, which probably meant they hadn't been in time to catch anyone. "Maybe help Mr. Dunn figure out what's missing."
Questions hovered on her tongue, but better to wait until she saw what was going on. "I'll be right there."
It took a moment to reassure Grams that she'd be perfectly safe, another to grab her jacket and shove Barney back from the door, and she ran out and slid into the car, shivering a little.
She shot out the drive and turned onto Crossings Road with only a slight qualm as she passed the place where she'd been hit.
Why? The question beat in her brain as she drove down the road as quickly as the rough surface would allow. If someone was in the house, why? More specifically, why now? It had stood empty all these years and been broken into more than once. Why would someone break in now, when surely most people knew that the new owner was here?
Lots of questions. No answers.
She turned into the rutted lane that led to the farmhouse, slowing of necessity. The police car, its roof light still rotating, sat next to Tyler's car. Its headlights showed her Chief Burkhalter's tall figure, standing next to the porch.
Tyler sat on the edge of the porch, head bent, one hand massaging the back of his neck.
She pulled to a stop and slid out, hurrying toward them. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine." Tyler frowned at the chief. "There was no need for him to call you."
"There was every need." She hoped her tone was brisk enough to disguise the wobble in her tummy. "You're hurt. Let me see."
Ignoring his protests, she ran her hand through the thick hair, feeling the lump gingerly.
He winced. "Are you a nurse as well as a chef?"
"No, but I know enough to be sure you should have some ice on that."
"I offered to take him to the E.R. or call paramedics," the chief said. "He turned me down."
"I don't need a doctor. I've had harder knocks than that on the football field. And the ice can wait until we've finished here."
"Just go over it once more for me," Burkhalter said, apparently accepting him at his word. "You saw the lights from your window at the inn, you
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