Chapter 7

The green road sign on the right said Eden, population 3,300. Sunset welcomed them as they drove down Main Street as did the Kazoo Factory and Museum, a number of historic homes, century old churches, a few restaurants and several familiar enterprises—Tim Horton's and a Dollar General Store.

Stephan pulled into the Four Corners Restaurant and killed the engine. "Be right back. I'll grab some food and ask about a motel."

"Doesn't look like you'll have much luck on the motel."

"Probably not, but at least we won't be hungry looking for one down the road. Any special requests?"

"I'd kill for a sandwich, any kind of sandwich."

He gave her a wink and stepped out of the car. He leaned in through the open window. "I'll see what I can do. I won't be long."

Minutes later, he returned carrying a bag and two paper cups of coffee, which he handed to her through the window. "The waitress recommended butternut squash and apple soup and ham, turkey and cheddar melts on fresh bagels."

When her mouth watered, she realized it had been hours since she'd last eaten. "Get in here with the food before I tackle you in the parking lot."

He stared at her, his thoughts unreadable.

"What?" She looked around, a frisson of fear racing up her spine. "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head. "No, but the thought of you tackling me kind of jump starts my engine."

Heat crept up her neck. "I-I didn't mean it literally. It was a figure of speech, a—"

"Relax, Rooney. I'm teasing you."

With his free hand, he opened the door, climbed in and handed her the bag. She plucked the sandwiches from the bag and handed him one, and then tore into hers. "Yum, good." With her mouth full, she continued. "Do they have a motel in town?"

Between bites, he shook his head."None here, but six miles down the road in Hamburg, there's a Quality Inn."

"After the day we've had, can't wait to hit that bed." Reality struck. He would get two beds, wouldn't he? She hadn't really thought about sharing a room with him, and had no intention of sharing his bed. Should she say something now or let it play out? In the end, she decided to wait and see what he'd do and then raise a fuss if she had to. She peered into the bag from the restaurant. "There's one soup in here."

"For you. Butternut squash and apple does nothing for me."

"I'll save it for the hotel. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He started the engine, pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward Hamburg.

* * *

The Quality Inn left something to be desired, but Stephan offered an acceptable grunt, as if to say this was the perfect place to hide out. He parked the Trans Am near the entry of the yellow, two-story building with a flat roof and a tan brick entry. "I don't see many cars so I'm pretty sure they'll have a room for us."

"Maybe even two rooms," she said and hoped it served as a subtle hint she'd prefer to stay in her own.

"Not going to happen. That would be foolish and reckless." He cut the engine and stepped out of the car while she did the same. Speaking over the roof, he added, "Which reminds me, they must have a gun range even in this small town. If not, we'll find an empty field to practice in."

"Practice in? Do snipers have to keep up on their shooting abilities on a regular basis or something?"

He pursed his lips and shook his head. "No, the shooting lessons are for you."

"In your dreams, Sergeant."

"Sergeant Major. Look, you said you've never even held a gun. We have to remedy that."

"But why? You said as long as I'm with you, I wouldn't come to any harm, and you're the sniper, after all."

"Rooney, what if I'm not with you for a short period of time? If we're going to get to the bottom of Stuart's murder, I have to follow up on some things."

"What kind of things?"

"Purchase new disposable cell phones, get you some clothing, contact the lawyer, and once I find out more about this fracking business…."

She rolled a finger. "Once you find out more about the fracking business…."

He shrugged. "Find a way to get inside the company."

"You intend to break and enter?"

"Doubtful they'd invite me in for a tour."

She put a hand in the air. "Stop. I don't want to know."

"As I said, you'll be alone for a short time while I—"

"Burglarize Catskill Resources."

"Something like that. That's why it's important you know how to use the pistol while I'm gone."

"Can we talk about this later, much later?"

"Sure." He peered into the back seat. "Speaking of Stuart, is he still with us?"

"No. Back there at the house, he left when you went outside to find the-the nasty men who shot up the place."

"Not very nice of him to cut and run like that."

"Are you admitting you finally believe me about your brother being a ghost?"

"I'm coming to terms with it, slow terms. So why did he take off like that?"

"He said he'd used up all his energy, had no choice."

"Huh. Didn't realize there were so many variables with ghosts."

"Like I said, can we talk about all this later, like after we get a room—a single room—and I have a nice, hot shower and eat my soup?"

"Sure. Let's go get that room."

A middle-aged man with a bald pate greeted them with a smile. "Hello, folks, how can I help you?"

Stephan pulled out his wallet and slapped it onto the desk. "We'd like a room, around the back, lower level, please."

"Yes, sir. One queen bed or two?"

"Two," she said and wondered if she'd answered a little too fast.

"My sister loves her beauty sleep." God, he was smooth and once again cool and collected. "I know she'll grab the one furthest from the window." Two fingers came up to point at his eyes. "Morning sun bothers her."

"Yes, sir. I have just the room." Baldy reached under the counter and placed a key in Stephan's hand. "Park your car 'round back in front of room 128. Forty-five dollars a night. We take most credit cards."

"Cash." Stephan pulled two one hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and handed them to the man. "Four nights, keep the change."

"Thank you, Mr…?"

"Schmidt, Grant Schmidt, and this is my sister, Julia."

"Pleased to meet you. Vending machines are down the hall from the desk on the right, chips, soda pop, candy bars and coffee. And since you don't appear to be from around here, come morning, you'll find several great restaurants in town." He handed him a brochure. "Daniel's, Root Five, Hoak's. Any questions, just ask. Oh, and call the desk if you need anything."

"Will do, thanks."

After they drove around back, Rooney followed Stephan and the duffle bags through the door of Room 128. As expected, the rooms were clean, but modest with two queen sized beds, two nightstands, a dated landscape picture hanging on the wall near the lone window in the room and a television set. A small bathroom sat on the other side of the wall near the bed furthest from the window.

Exhausted after the long day, Rooney placed the bag of soup down on the nightstand and thought about the long, hot shower beckoning her.

As if to read her mind, Stephan dug into the smallest duffle bag and tossed her a white-t-shirt. His distinct scent spiraled up her nose, a mixture of the fresh outdoors, a hint of mint and pure male. "The best I can do tonight but we passed several boutiques as we drove in. I'll head over in the morning and see what I can find for clothing."

"You don't know my size."

"Wrong. Size eight. Am I right?"

Surprised he'd even noticed, she felt an eyebrow shoot up. "Yes, but is there some reason I can't pick out my own clothing?"

"None at all. Happy to have the company."

"Great." T-shirt clutched in her hand, she headed toward the bathroom. "I won't be long and I'll try not to use all the hot water."

"Take your time." He pulled the curtain back an inch and looked outside.

"I'll keep an eye on things out there."

"You're not worried, are you? I mean, no one followed us, right?"

His gorgeous eyes met hers. "No one followed us, but that doesn't mean they won't find us."

"But…how—?"

"I'm being cautious. I don't think they've found us this soon."

"Will they?"

"If we're sloppy or if somehow they get lucky, yes."

She swallowed, hard. "Think I'll take that shower."

The infamous smile gave her heart a start. "Go ahead, and don't worry. I'll be right here."

She paused at the bathroom doorway and caught his gaze again. "I'm glad you're here, Stephan."

"Me too," he said low-voiced before she entered the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

When Rooney emerged from the shower, she sat on the edge of her bed and plucked the carton of soup and a spoon from the bag. Stephan sat across from her on his own bed with a paper cup. Also on the nightstand was a bottle of Jack Daniels, a knife, and another paper cup. He filled it and handed it to her.

A smile found her. "Is this your usual nightcap?"

"Lately, yes. Go ahead, you'll sleep better."

"Think I'll take you up on that, although I prefer wine, Chardonnay or Riesling." She made a face as the strong liquid slid down her throat. "Kind of lost my appetite for the soup anyway."

"Tell me more about this fracking thing."

"If I hadn't taken the time to read about it when I was at the library, I wouldn't be able to."

His attentive expression conveyed his interest.

"I read about this family in Pennsylvania, across state lines from upstate New York who were recently awarded over two million by a jury after suing Cabot Oil and Gas. The article said another couple living south of Binghamton, New York also received millions from the same company."

"Guess I have been gone a long time. I don't know much about fracking other than it's hydraulic drilling of some type to extract gas from the ground, right?"

"Yes, from shale formations. The article went on to say over forty families were affected and also sued when their water was contaminated with methane gas."

"Poisoned them?"

Rooney nodded. "Oh, yeah, the area and the families became famous in 2010 when the documentary Gasland showed residents lighting their tap water on fire because of the high amount of methane it contained."

"Why didn't Cabot just settle out of court after knowing that?"

"Lawyers for their side maintained while the water might not taste right, it was still safe to drink. Guess the juries didn't buy that."

Stephan rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger. "I'm beginning to get a clear picture. So Catskill knows if it goes to a jury trial, they will probably lose?"

"Looks like it. In Stuart's case, they probably knew your parents were no longer around, so if he was dead, the lawsuit would never see the light of day."

"And they didn't know about me?"

Rooney raised her glass. "Bingo."

"Feds own the neighboring land where the fracking occurred. I saw their signs when I took a walk one of my first days back. Used to be an old man by the name of Tweed lived there for years. Guess he's gone now too or must have sold out to the government."

"Stuart said he contacted Catskill many times over the years and they never answered, never sent anyone to investigate. He filed a lawsuit and he's convinced—"

"They killed him."

"What do you think?"

"I like to deal in facts. My brother filed a lawsuit against a large conglomerate. He's dead and someone tried to kill me…us today."

"I was afraid that's how you'd see it."

"I know one thing, we both need sleep. Let's go over it again over breakfast and come up with a plan."

"Since I'm beat, I'm all for that." She glanced over her shoulder. "The bathroom light is on and I left the door open an inch."

"Don't tell me a woman who was all set to shoot a man today is afraid of the dark?"

"I wasn't all set to shoot anyone, and no, I'm not scared of the dark. I might forget where I am if I wake up, that's all."

"I'm teasing you again, Rooney."

"You keep doing that and I might have to change my mind about you being an ass hat."

"Ah, I'll try to remember that."

She turned off the lamp resting on the nightstand, slipped under the covers, laid down facing the wall and remembered seeing the open duffle bag that held an array of weapons, a rifle or two, and several guns. "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight, sleep well."

She heard him kick his boots to the floor and imagined him removing his jeans. An image formed in her mind. Was he a briefs or a boxer kind of guy?

The last thing she thought about before she drifted off was the knife. Would he leave it on the nightstand or put it under his pillow and what happened to him that elicited the need to sleep with a knife?