“Nothing.”
“And is that it? No other suspicious incidents in the past few weeks? Anything that, with a twist of the imagination, might seem odd?”
She thought about it, going back over the days with a fine-tooth comb. Eventually she shook her head. “Nothing.”
Matt sat back on the bench, deep in thought. Sandy brows shaded his eyes. His mouth was drawn into a tight line. Lauren studied him, waiting to hear what he had to say. When he stood up abruptly and began to walk back toward the house, she was mystified.
“Matt?” She bolted to her feet, jogging to catch up. He looked at her almost in surprise, and she wondered where his thoughts had been.
“Oh. Sorry. I thought I’d put the bread in the oven now.”
“But the timer—”
“We wouldn’t have heard it.” Sure enough, as they mounted the back steps they caught the insistent buzz.
Biding her time with some effort, she watched him open the oven door, flip over each piece of chicken, then slip the prebuttered loaf onto the lower shelf. Without missing a beat, he carefully dropped the husked ears of com into the now-boiling water.
Finally she couldn’t wait any longer. “Well? What do you think?”
“Mmm. Chicken smells good.”
“Not the chicken. Mypredicament. Issomeone after me?”
Straightening, he leaned back against the chipped counter and studied her. “Is there areasonthat someone should be after you?”
She couldn’t believe the question. “Of course not! I haven’t done anything. I haven’t hurt anyone. To my knowledge, I don’t have any enemies. I’m amazed you’d even ask that!”
“Just ruling it out. It’s as good a place as any to start.”
“Well, we’ve started. A more probable possibility is that these incidents have something to do with the farmhouse. Everything began after I moved in.”
“When, exactly, did you move in?”
“The first week in June.”
“And the car incident took place, what, at the end of the month?” He thrust out his jaw. “The delay doesn’t make sense. If someone legitimately didn’t want you living here, the incidents would have started while you were first looking over the place, or certainly as soon as you’d moved in. Besides, not all of the things have happened here. Nah, I don’t think they have anything to do with the farmhouse.”
“That’d be the most plausible explanation,” she pointed out. “And it’d be the easiest one to follow up. I’ve considered the possibility that one of the neighbors doesn’t want me here, but the few I’ve met have been pleasant enough, and I can’t think of any reason that my presence would be objectionable. I know nothing about the former owners, though. I could speak with the realtor and go through the records of who has lived here in the past. If necessary, I could call in a private investigator, or even the police—”
“Don’t do that,” Matt interrupted, then quickly gentled his voice. “Not yet, at least.”
Though Lauren herself hadn’t been anxious to call the police, she was surprised by his vehemence. It occurred to her that he might be indulging her in her fancy while not quite taking it to heart. “What do you suggest?” she asked more cautiously.
“Let’s consider the possibilities.” He squinted with one eye. “Are you sure you can’t think of someone who might get his jollies by scaring you?”
“Like who?”
He shrugged. “An old boyfriend?”
“An old boyfriend who’d come all the way from Bennington in search of a little mischief?”
“Then maybe someone you might have met since you’ve been here. Someone who asked you out. Or followed you around. Or just … looked at you for hours on end.”
“You’re the only one who’s done that,” she replied with a smirk. “Maybe you’ve got a Jekyll and Hyde thing going.”
The twitch of his nose told her what he thought of that idea.
“Well,” she went on, thinking aloud, “it could always be a random lunatic.”
