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“Pardon me?” she whispered, carefully disguising the huskiness in her throat with poise.
“You are Ashley Jennings, aren’t you—Ashley Stephens Jennings?”
“Yes.” She was instantly wary. The last twenty-four hours had been a roller coaster of conflicts and emotions and something in this man’s studious gaze warned her to tread carefully.
The young man flashed a triumphant smile. “I thought so. Elwin Douglass.” He stretched out his hand and reluctantly Ashley accepted his larger palm in her icy fingers.
“ls there something I can do for you?”
“I hope so. I’m a free-lance reporter.” Ashley’s heart froze in her throat. “I’m doing a series of articles about the politicians in the primary . . . and, well, I’m starting with Trevor Daniels.”
“Mr. Daniels wasn’t here today,” Ashley replied, sensing that she didn’t want to become embroiled with this young man. “You should be talking to him and I have to get back to work—”
“I’ll walk with you. This won’t take long,” he reassured her. “You’re in charge of Stephens Timber, aren’t you?” He was writing in a notebook, glancing at her and refusing to be put off.
“Yes. I’m the president. Several people help me handle the management. I couldn’t do it alone.” lnvoluntarily she thought of Claud and cold dread stiffened her spine.
A traffic signal on Fifth made her pause. Douglass grabbed the opportunity. “I know. But your company, at least in the past, has been very vocal in condemning environmental candidates such as Daniels.”
The signal changed and Ashley stepped off the red-brick curb and onto the wet pavement. “Look, Mr. Douglass. I really don’t want to give an impromptu interview right now. Perhaps if you called the office, w
e could arrange a time that would be convenient for both of us.”
The bold reporter refused to take the hint. “Well, there’s just a couple of questions.”
“Really, I don’t think—”
“You’re Lazarus Stephens’s daughter, right?”
“Of course, but—”
“His only child, the one who got involved with Trevor Daniels several years ago.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Ashley stated, increasing the length of her stride. The offices of Stephens Timber Corporation were now in view. Ashley was never more glad to see the renovated turn-of-the-century hotel sitting proudly on Front Avenue.
“Wait a minute. What do you know about this rumor that Daniels is withdrawing from the race?”
That’s an easy one, and safe, too, Ashley thought to herself. “Absolutely nothing,” she answered honestly. Her smile was well practiced and cool. “Now, seriously, if you’d like to continue this interview, at another time, just give the office a call.” She fished in her purse, found a business card and extended it to him. “Right now I have work to do.”
Grudgingly Elwin Douglass accepted the small white card and slipped it into his wallet.
Ashley pushed open the wide glass door of the building and effectively ended the interview. Her chin was held proudly, her strides determined. Despite the warnings from Everett Woodward, and the unspoken insinuations from the reporter, she knew that she had to see Trevor again.
Tonight.
Chapter Ten
Twilight had fallen by the time Ashley arrived at Trevor’s stately home. Despite the gathering darkness, Ashley could see that the grand two-story structure hadn’t changed much in the past eight years. Built of cedar timbers and bluestone, the English manor stood proudly on the banks of the silvery Willamette River.
Sharp gables angled against the steep roofline, and ancient fir trees guarded the estate. Leaded windows winked in the harsh glare of security lights, which illuminated the rambling structure and cast ghostly shadows over the dormers.
Gathering her purse and her composure, Ashley got out of her car and walked up the rough stone path to the front door. Though she had entered that door dozens of times in the past, her heart began to thud anxiously as she ascended the steps of the stone porch and braced herself for Trevor’s inevitable rejection.
Everett’s warning echoed dully in her mind—Leave the poor bastard alone. What did that mean? It was more than a threat; the campaign manager’s words sounded like a plea, as if Everett was attempting to protect Trevor. The thought sent cold desperation racing through Ashley’s bloodstream. Why did Trevor need protecting? He had always been a strong, proud man, capable of taking care of himself and finding a way of getting what he wanted in life. He had always stood alone, fighting whatever battles he had to without anyone’s help.
Unable to dispel the overwhelming sense of dread settling upon her, she rang the doorbell and waited impatiently. The melodic chimes sounded through the solid wood door, but there was no evidence of life from within the huge house. Fear for the man she loved took a stranglehold on her throat.
The scent of burning wood drifted in the air, indicating that a fire was burning in one of the massive fireplaces within the manor.
