Which was what had happened to Adam Rutledge.
Jetts dad had taken his fair share of a beating, and his injuries were worsening with arthritis and age.
But he was still alive, still watching his grandson grow, and now he was helping out with communications at the airstrip, a job Jett had scored for his father. All in all, Jett couldnt ask for more.
As he neared Guss place, he wondered what was going to happen to the old mans property now that he was gone. A thought flashed briefly through his mind that he might make an offer, join the Rutledge land with the ODonnell acreage. But that idea led to thoughts of Muirinn ODonnell and he instantly quashed the notion. Shed probably inherited the property. Putting in an offer would just bring him into contact with her. Jett figured hed rather forgo the option of buying it if meant ever seeing, or talking, to her again.
His hands tensed on the wheel, anger flooding into his veins at the mere thought of Muirinn. She hadnt even shown up for Guss funeral. That told him something.
It told him that she didnt care.
She didnt give a damn about the people shed left behind in this town. Shed turned her back on it allon himand never once looked back.
Eleven years ago, Muirinn had been doing a summer stint at her grandfathers newspaper where shed discovered a passion for journalism. Around the same time a Hollywood production company had blown into town to do a movie on the Tolkin Mine murders, based on Guss book. The presence of the movie crew had turned Safe Harbor upside down, and it had fired a burning coal in Muirinns belly. Shed started going out to the set every day, reporting on the production, interviewing the actors and crew. In turn, the actor playing the part of Muirinns father had interviewed Muirinn as the surviving ODonnell family member. In Jetts opinion it had messed with her head, giving her a false sense of celebrity.
Then one of the crew members had suggested that Muirinns writing was really good, saying hed put a word in for her at his sisters Los Angeles magazine,
and Muirinn had become completely obsessed by the idea.
Lured by absurd notions of fame, fortune and escape, shed packed up her life and followed the crew to LA. Jett had literally begged her not to leave. Hed been so in love with that woman. Hed planned to marry her, never a doubt in his mind that they were meant for each other. But shed been as stubborn as mule.
Theyd argued hot and hard, and it had led to even hotter and angrier sex. Afterwards, shed tried to convince Jett to go with her, but he couldnt. He was born to live in the wilds of Alaska. It wouldve killed him to move to L.A. Shed taunted him, saying that if he really loved her enough hed do it. And Jett, feeling her slipping from his grasp, had retaliated by saying if she did leave, hed never forgive her, never speak to her again. Hed hate her for walking out on what they had.
Clearly, shed taken him at his word, because the next day shed boarded that plane and hed never heard from her again.
Muirinn had always had a way of bringing out the irrational fire in Jett, something he regretted to this day. Because even through all his anger, Jett never had managed to let Muirinn go, and it had cost him his marriage. It had cost them He slammed on the brakes suddenly, on the road just past Guss house.
A light was flickering faintly up in Guss attic window.
Someone was inside.
Vandals? A fire?
He put his truck into reverse, quickly backed up the road and wheeled into the rutted driveway with half a mind to alert the police before deciding it was likely just old Lydia Wilkie in there, probably using an oil lamp since the power had been disconnected after Guss death.
Still, it was past midnight; not a time the crazy old lady would likely be up and about inside Guss house.
Hed better check to make sure.
Muirinns sleep was shattered by a violent clap of thunder.
She jolted upright. Then she heard it againnot thundera thunderous banging on the door downstairs. Quicksilver shot off the bed and bolted down the hall.
Muirinn groped in the dark to light the lamp. Holding it high, she negotiated the stairs, careful not to trip over her nightdress. She halted in the hallway, glanced at the old clock. It was past midnight. Who on earth could be beating on Guss door at this hour?
The banging shuddered through the house again. Fear sliced into her.
She set the lamp down, reached for the bunch of keys shed left on the hall table before going to bed. Fumbling for the right key, Muirinn headed for Guss gun cabinet. Another wave of banging resounded through the house.
Unlocking the cabinet, Muirinn removed Guss old shotgun. Hands shaking now, she loaded a cartridge, chambered the round and went to the door.
Who is it? she yelled.
Wind rattled hard at windows, swished through the conifers outside, branches clawing on the roof. Whoever was out there in the storm couldnt hear her, and the pounding began again, so hard the door shook. She sucked in a deep breath and swung the door open.