The Last Daughter (Tales of the Scrimshaw Doll) by Jessica Ferguson Page A

can sit out there all night for all I care,” he mumbled “If someone steals it, so be it.” If it was still there after breakfast, it was meant to be.
    “And it sure as hell ain’t no coincidence.”

Chapter 5
    “You look like a grump this morning. Didn’t you sleep well?” Rayna beat him to the kitchen. She’d made the coffee and was whipping up a breakfast casserole.
    “Why are you fixing so much food?”
    “I realize you’re the gourmet cook in this house, but I’ve been wanting to try this recipe. No better time than now.”
    He grunted and shifted in his chair. “Lots of better times.”
    She quit mixing and dug inside her pocket. She held a silver object toward him. “Okay, I know why you’re upset. Look at this.”
    When he didn’t respond, she explained. “It’s from a pellet gun.”
    “Right, I’ve seen a lot of them. I just don’t understand why that should make me feel better.”
    “No one was trying to kill me. It was probably just a kid out goofing off at night, shooting at street lights. Every bayou kid in Louisiana has a b-b gun or a pellet gun.”
    He took the pellet from her. “Then you realize there are pellet rifles out there thirty-eight and fifty caliber that are legal to deer hunt with. Rayna, a high powered pellet rifle will leave an exit wound on a white tail deer and blow all the way through a squirrel.”
    “Okay, tell me what’s wrong. Everything was good when you left my room last night—except for the gunshot. I’ve never seen you like this.” She put her hand on his arm.
    “Here’s what’s wrong, Rayna.” He held up the pellet. “You could have been killed. Someone shot at you. I never should have promised you I wouldn’t notify the police. If something happens to you, I’ll never forgive myself.” He looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. She looked fresh and rested. “Don’t tell me you slept like a baby.”
    She took the pellet from him, and turned back to the counter. She leaned against it. “As a matter of fact, I did sleep like a baby—after I dug this thing out of the wall.”
    He shook his head. “We need to go to the cops. We need to get an investigation going.”
    “You may regret it, but you did promise.”
    “I know. But, Rayna, I’m afraid I’m going to—that we’ll both regret not getting them here to investigate.”
    She sat down at the table and put her hand on his arm. “We can do our own investigation. I’ll do whatever you say as long as you don’t get the police involved.”
    He scowled. “Are you hiding something from me?”
    “No, I promise I’m not. And maybe you’re right about the cops, but let’s discuss it. First, why would anyone shoot at me? It doesn’t make sense.”
    “No, it doesn’t, unless someone doesn’t want you to find your family.”
    Her fingers tightened. “I don’t want to believe that. But if it’s true, I need to know why? Why, Trent?” She moved her hand to her chest and rubbed the fabric of her high neck pullover. “Do you think I witnessed something I shouldn’t have when I was a child? Or have I come into a huge inheritance that someone doesn’t want me to have? Why would anyone care?”
    Trent got up from the table and pulled her from the chair. He cupped her face with both hands and his thumbs caressed her cheeks. “I meant everything I said last night, Rayna. Everything. I’ll sell this place now and take you away from it. I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’ll walk away from it now, give it up completely if you’ll come with me.”
    She pulled back. “Trent, you sound so frantic, you’re scaring me.”
    “I’m scaring you? Someone shoots at you from the street, but I’m scaring you?”
    She plopped down on the edge of a chair and crossed her arms, shrugging into them as if trying to protect herself. “Please, there has to be another way. I don’t want to go to the cops because I don’t want them involved in my life. I’m not sure what I’ll find out