My Kind of Christmas (The Christmas Tree Ranch 1)

Maggie felt a chill of premonition. She masked it with a smile. “Please sit down, Ben,” she said. “You’re making me nervous, looming over my desk like that.”

“Sorry.” He sank onto the edge of the chair opposite her desk. “I have what might be some embarrassing questions to ask you,” he said.

“Go ahead.” Her pulse clicked into a canter.

He cleared his throat. “Were you aware that Stanley Featherstone might have been spying on you?”

“Wow, where did that come from?” she joked.

“Were you, Maggie?”

“I suspected it. He’s asked me out a few times. I always shrugged it off. I have no interest in him. But when he came in here to warn me about Travis, saying that a concerned citizen had seen him coming out of my house . . . that gave me the creeps.”

“So you are seeing Travis Morgan?”

The weight of the premonition deepened. “Yes. It’s no secret. What’s all this about, Ben?”

“Has Travis ever mentioned wanting to get even with his father for trying to harm his business?”

“No.” Now Maggie was getting scared. “In fact, Conner once told me that Travis had refused to retaliate against Hank. He’d said it would only poison the well. Ben, what is this? What’s going on?”

“Was Travis with you last night?”

“Yes. He dropped by after work and was so tired that he fell asleep on the sofa. I woke him around eleven, and he left. But he did call me on the way home to say that somebody was following him. He said they turned around after he passed the hardware store. And he didn’t mention that the place was on fire.”

“Did you notice any other vehicle nearby when he left? One that didn’t belong in the neighborhood?”

“I didn’t even look!” Maggie rose out of her chair, trembling. “For the love of heaven, Ben, I’ve always thought we were friends! Tell me what’s going on!”

“All right. Sit down.” He paused while she took her seat again. “Stanley Featherstone is claiming he followed Travis from your house last night and saw him set the fire.”

Maggie gasped. Her head swam with disbelief. “No! Stanley’s lying! He’s out to get Travis because of me!”

“That’s one theory. Right now, we’ve got no proof either way. But we brought Travis in for questioning this morning. Stanley’s story did sound fishy in spots. But Travis had means, motive, and opportunity. And whether he started the fire or not, the fact that he called you could’ve been a ploy to set up an alibi.”

“Well, now that you’ve talked to me, you know that Stanley had means, motive, and opportunity as well. Ben, Travis didn’t do this thing! He wouldn’t! He has too much to lose. Locking him up again would kill him—and Stanley knows that.”

“Travis is locked up now, in holding, until we sort this out,” the sheriff said. “Arson is a serious crime, and I’m sworn to do my job. I’m sorry, Maggie, but if the guilty finger points to him, he’ll be placed under arrest.”

“Can I see him?”

“Travis gave specific orders that you not be allowed to see him. Sorry.”

Maggie’s head sagged. She fought back tears. “This is a nightmare. I love him, Ben. He would never risk what we have for a stupid act of revenge, especially if someone else was close enough to see him do it.”

Ben rose and laid a gentle hand on her arm. “I’ll keep that in mind, Maggie. The truth is out there somewhere, and I won’t stop looking until I’ve found it.”

Just then the receptionist buzzed Maggie’s desk phone. “Hank Miller is here. Can I show him in?”

Maggie gave Ben a questioning glance. Ben nodded. He would stay.

The door opened, and Hank stumbled in, rumpled and breathless, his face the picture of distress. “I was on my way to your office, Ben, but then I saw you come in here. I hope you don’t mind, Maggie. This concerns you, too.”

“Sit down, Hank.” Ben held out the chair where he’d been sitting. Hank shook his head.

“Thanks, I’d rather stand. Stanley Featherstone phoned me a few minutes ago. He said my boy had been arrested for burning my Christmas tree lot.”

“Not arrested, just held for questioning. What else did Stanley tell you?”