Читать книгу A Minute on the Lips - Cheryl Harper - Страница 10

CHAPTER THREE

THE SHORT TRIP back to the office was lengthened by multiple stops for nervous tourists who were darting into the streets outside the designated crosswalks. If the pavement hadn’t been hotter than the sun, Andi might have pulled over and issued some stern warnings. Jaywalking was illegal—it was a safety issue. Scaring people straight was part of the sheriff’s job, but the mayor didn’t appreciate that.

When she finally pulled into her designated parking spot, Andi turned off the ignition. She might have rested for a bit except she was afraid of baking her brain. She slid out quickly and slammed the door. Her palms still had a slight tingle going on, the effect of a massive amount of caffeine. Obviously.

“Morning, Sheriff.” Lori had taken Nettie’s spot at the dispatch desk. Nettie worked early mornings, when things were a bit slower and she didn’t have to deal with as many citizens. Andi envied her the right to choose.

Lori and Andi had gone to school together, but Lori stayed in Tall Pines to marry, divorce and remarry. Every greeting she issued might come with a smile, but there was also the edge of sharp teeth and the hint of a grimace. She’d worked for the old sheriff and might resent Andi taking his spot. He was her father, after all. Still, a job was a job and in Tall Pines, no one quit a good job on the principle of the thing. They were just too hard to come by. So Lori performed right on the edge, well enough to keep coming in every day but not so well that it could be misconstrued as approval or anything other than a deep-seated wish to inflict nonfelonious harm.

Lori and Andi had a history anyway. Lori had been homecoming queen and head cheerleader. Andi had been president of the math club, a desperate overachiever intent on winning a college scholarship. She’d snatched valedictorian out of Lori’s pom-pom-waving paws at the last minute and still congratulated herself on that now and then. Lori probably didn’t think about it much. She had two beautiful little boys to show off. Pictures lined the wall beside the dispatch desk. The towheaded twins had to be about eight years old. Their names were Alexander and Andrew and they were perfectly identical. When they came in, Andi had no idea which was which and settled for a jovial and nonspecific “boys” whenever she had to address them directly.

Andi’s small pangs of jealousy hadn’t driven her to put up pictures of her cat, Mojo, on the same wall. Not yet.

“Morning, Lori. Is there anything urgent?”

“Nope. Dan’s headed out to check on the one call we’ve got. Mrs. Haley thinks there’s been someone prowling around her garage at night.”

Andi nodded. This prowler would probably be just like the last, a deer knocking over the chairs on Mrs. Haley’s porch, but the woman had a shotgun and an active imagination. It would be a good thing to check out.

Andi waved at Dan as he stood up from one of the four desks crammed into the large room. It was time for the patrols to change over, so both Dan Jones and Jimmy Monroe were there. Jimmy was writing a report, and Dan had just finished checking any notes left from the previous shift. It was a small office. There were six full-time deputies for the entire county and reserves who helped out as needed.

Jimmy looked up. “Anything we need to know about the incident over at Jackie’s?”

Andi scratched her forehead as she tried to figure out how to answer. “Well, his trophies and the money and everything else in his safe were stolen. He’d corralled Oscar, his busboy, Wanda Blankenship and Mark Taylor when I got there. I couldn’t see any signs of a break-in, and Jackie swears the door was locked when he got there.”

Dan crossed his arms over his chest and Jimmy leaned back in his chair. Andi could smell Lori hovering behind her. She had a thing for strawberry bubble gum.

“So it’s somebody with a key,” Dan said. “Should be easy enough to figure out.”

Andi agreed. Mostly. “Unless it’s a random thief who’s good with locks and safes.”

They both shook their heads. “Doesn’t seem likely.”

“Except...I can’t rule it out, either,” Andi said.

Dan held up three fingers. “C’mon, boss. Motive. Means. Opportunity.”

“It’s hard to come up with a reason for stealing trophies, but money’s always a motivator.”

Lori popped a bubble dangerously close to Andi’s ponytail. She couldn’t help but think it would be even more difficult to prove criminal intent for gum in her hair.

Dan picked up his radio and walked around the desk. “Sounds personal, boss. You should definitely find out if Jackie has any enemies.”

All three of them were quiet for a minute before Andi snorted. “Right. This is Jackie we’re talking about. If he wasn’t the best chili cook in this part of the state, he probably would’ve been chased out of town after his second lawsuit.”

Both Dan and Jimmy nodded. They had strict instructions to stay away from Jackie. One of the deputies in the former administration had gotten too close for comfort, and Jackie had taken him all the way to court for harassment. He hadn’t won, but the court of public opinion was harder to argue with than the men in black robes.

Jimmy slapped Andi on the shoulder. “Well, there’s always the traffic camera.” Another heavy silence filled the room before all four of them burst out into guffaws. The traffic camera was suggested at least once a season, most often by a tourist who’d seen years of police dramas and wanted to find out whether something had been taken from his car or hotel room.

Tall Pines had a single stoplight on the two-lane highway that ran through town. And there was no camera on it. Everywhere else, traffic was controlled by well-placed stop signs and law-abiding citizens. Most of the time everyone was happy to live in a place where the only security they might need was the lock their car or house was already equipped with.

“I will certainly get right on that, Deputy. That is a fabulous suggestion.”

Dan waved as he walked out into the bright sunshine. Lori wiped the smudged mascara from underneath her eyes and wandered back to the dispatch desk. Jimmy shuffled the paperwork on his desk into a folder and handed it to Andi. “Let me know if I can give you any help with that investigation, boss.”

She nodded and slid the folder under her arm as she headed for her office. “Sure thing. You guys might want to avoid the Country Kitchen for a bit. Jackie will make any visit miserable until I can get some information for him.”

“Got it,” Jimmy said. “See you tomorrow.”

Andi made a detour to the small kitchenette for a glass of ice-cold water. As she perched on the edge of her chair and did her best to ignore the squawk it made as she leaned back, Andi set the glass down and pulled out her notebook.

She opened a new incident report and transcribed the few details she’d managed to pick up from her interrogation of the “suspects.” She also tried to brush aside the memory of Mark Taylor’s hand wrapped around hers.

Her gut said this was an inside job. Someone with a key had waited until the diner was closed to take the money Jackie had on hand. Surely everything else was an afterthought. Why take trophies?

Knowing Jackie and his suspicious nature, the list of people with keys would be short. Maybe only Jackie, in fact. Maybe his wife, Mona. Possibly Oscar. But the back window was unlocked, so all three of the people she’d interviewed had means and opportunity, as well. Maybe Jackie had accidentally left it that way. Maybe Oscar had opened it for himself or someone else. She didn’t figure Jackie drank his coffee out of a World’s Best Boss mug.

As far as an action plan, she had only two options. First, Andi would have to ask Jackie what his list of enemies looked like. She’d need to take a much larger notebook on that day. And second, she needed to get her hair done. Luckily, it had been almost two months since her last visit, and she had an appointment already scheduled. She could take care of both tomorrow.

* * *

AFTER A BLISSFUL afternoon spent at her desk pushing paper around and detoxing from a caffeine high, Andi decided to relax at the Smokehouse—Tall Pines’s answer to finer dining. Jackie’s business was a breakfast, lunch and snack proposition except when the fall color hit. For the Fall Festival, he spruced up his dinner menu with chili any way and every way he could imagine it. Otherwise, the Smokehouse was the place to go for an evening meal.

When she walked into the shadowy coolness of the restaurant, Andi sighed with relief. It was a bit early for dinner but that would be a good thing. She could avoid the mayor and enjoy her meal in peace and quiet.

A steady flip-flop approached, and Andi turned and smiled at Sarah Wilson. The Wilsons had been her neighbors growing up. Sarah’s parents still lived in Tall Pines but Andi did her absolute best to avoid that neighborhood now. It was too painful.

“Afternoon, Sheriff. Want your usual spot?” If she’d thought about it for a minute, it might have bothered Andi that she was so predictable. She had usual drinks, usual meals and usual spots. That constituted a rut.

“That’d be great.” Andi followed her to the table, biting back the advice that wanted to tumble out regarding proper restaurant footwear. It wasn’t her place. And so what if flip-flop, flip-flop was annoying? If it didn’t bother Amanda in her own restaurant, then it shouldn’t bother Andi. Clearly, she needed to concentrate on what was important here: dessert.

Andi decided to take the seat facing the kitchen, with her back toward the door. The place was deserted now but it was only a matter of time until someone came in, spotted her and tried to pump her for information on what had happened at Jackie’s. She had no illusions about the spread of the story. At this time of day, Andi could call somebody two counties away and get some distorted version of what had happened, what she said and where the body was hidden.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Sarah asked.

“Sweet tea, please,” Andi responded, as always. Sarah flip-flopped her way to the kitchen to get Andi’s drink.

Even though she’d be having her usual, Andi perused the menu because that was the right thing to do in restaurants. A small breeze stirred over her shoulder and, thinking it was Sarah returning with the tea, Andi looked up with a smile on her face.

Mark Taylor smiled back. “Well, Sheriff, I have to say I didn’t expect such a warm welcome.” He pulled out the seat across from her and sat down before he rested both elbows on the table. “What are we having?”

Andi snapped the menu closed and got ready to blast him. She did not want her dinner interrupted by Jackie’s case.

Sarah intervened with a sweaty glass of iced tea. “Well, Mark, I didn’t know you were joining the sheriff. What can I get you to drink?”

Andi opened her mouth to say that his drink should be delivered to another table, any other table, but she could tell with one quick look that Sarah would have trouble remembering anything she might say. Her large blue eyes were locked on Mark Taylor like he was the second coming of Tom Cruise right here in Tall Pines.

He didn’t see her worshipping gaze. When Andi looked at Mark to give him the stunning glare of death, he was smiling back at her. “And that’s more like it.” He shot a glance up at beautiful young Sarah and said, “Make it tea.”

She nodded distractedly. Andi wondered if Sarah heard his answer but then realized it didn’t matter. She would have his choice memorized.

“Are y’all ready to order?” Sarah asked them both, but she was looking at Mark.

Clearing her throat, Andi said loudly, “I’ll have the chef salad with vinaigrette on the side, Sarah.”

Sarah nodded again but didn’t take out her notepad. She had probably already put in Andi’s usual order.

“A salad? In a rib joint?” Mark looked at Andi. Both eyebrows were raised and his mouth hung open. He was clearly offended. He glanced up at Sarah. “Can she do that?”

Sarah answered with a maniacal giggle. “Well, I guess so, Mark. She does it almost every time she comes in.”

He shook his head as if he couldn’t quite believe it but he’d allow it anyway and handed over the menu. “I think I’ll have the special tonight, Sarah. And make sure it has the sweet sauce instead of the mild, okay?”

She stacked the menus and put extra swish in her exit, glancing back over her shoulder to see if she had an audience. When she saw that Andi was the only one watching, she straightened her shoulders, slammed the menus back in the basket next to the phone and pushed through the swinging doors.

“So, Sheriff, a salad? Here? In the home of the best ribs in the northeast part of the state?” His lips twitched as he pointed to the sign hanging over the front door that listed that exact honor. The Smokehouse had been voted number one in the newspaper’s annual poll.

Andi nodded. “Yes, but you’ll wish you’d gone a different route when Sarah brings me a slice of cheesecake bigger than my head.”

“Ah, I get it. You store up a few karmic calories so that you splurge on dessert.” Mark shrugged. “Whereas I live by the philosophy that there’s absolutely no reason I can’t have both if I want to.”

Andi tapped her finger to her lip before she said, “You know, that doesn’t surprise me a bit.” She opened her napkin with a snap and spread it over her legs. “And if I lived by that philosophy, I’d definitely have to buy a bigger uniform.”

“Sheriff, I’m beginning to think you don’t know me at all.” Mark made a show of glancing over her tan uniform. “But this uniform looks pretty good on you, so your philosophy must be working.”

Andi couldn’t help it. She rolled her eyes.

He laughed. “What? You don’t think my flattery is sincere?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure anything about you is sincere.” It was a good thing the restaurant went for mood lighting. If they’d been anywhere with lightbulbs stronger than forty watts, he’d be able to see how flustered he made her. Sarah brought out their drinks, a basket of rolls and pats of butter. She didn’t say a word but retreated to the front door to greet any new visitors that might come in.

“Now, Sheriff. That sorta hurts my feelings.” Andi couldn’t see it in this lighting but he might have slapped on a halo before he answered. “I believe you have me pegged as some sort of city slicker out to pull the wool over your eyes for some nefarious reason.”

Andi shook her head. “No. I have you pegged as some city clicker who’s out to pull the wool over my eyes because it keeps you entertained. And if you get a juicy story, too, so much the better. It sells papers.” She snorted. “Am I wrong? You did move here from the city. You do seem to take extreme pleasure in poking at me. And now you’re trying to convince me that you find my uniform attractive. And the truth is you could crook your finger and have any number of women lined up, so there’s no reason to tease me.”

As he buttered a roll, he considered Andi’s answer. He took a big bite and offered the rest to her. She gave him a repressive frown but knew it was a waste of time.

After a quick swig of tea, he said, “Yes, I moved here from the city but maybe that’s an example of my sound judgment. Did you ever figure that?” Without waiting for her answer, he added, “And I enjoy teasing you, that part’s true. If you could see your face, you’d have a hard time always doing the right thing, too.”

He leaned forward. “And as far as that uniform goes, I never meant to say I found it attractive.” Andi shook her head and managed to meet his gaze. “I find you attractive. And that’s nothing but the truth.”

He sat back with a satisfied smirk on his face. Andi needed a gulp of air but she didn’t want to appear undignified. To buy some time, she picked up her glass and managed to snort tea straight up her nose. As she coughed and sputtered, Mark calmly devoured his roll.

After she wiped her face and managed to catch her breath, Andi croaked, “You can’t say things like that to me. Are you trying to kill me?”

He laughed softly and shook his head.

“Listen, I don’t know anything new about Jackie’s robbery yet. When I do, I’ll pass it along, okay? I promise. You don’t have to follow me around to eavesdrop.”

“Okay. Glad to hear it.” He picked up another roll and an amazing glop of butter and introduced them.

“Don’t you have someplace else to be?”

He looked confused. “Uh, no. I’ve ordered dinner. It’ll be here momentarily...” He paused dramatically and Sarah’s flip-flops sounded from the kitchen as she entered the dining room with a tray on her shoulder.

He leaned back to let Sarah place an overflowing plate of ribs right in front of him, with sides of slaw and potato salad. She set down Andi’s meal—iceberg lettuce with chopped vegetables and a few strips each of ham, turkey and grilled chicken—then reached back to get the dressing. When she’d cleared the tray, Sarah tonelessly said, “Enjoy.”

As she watched him pick up the ribs and start eating, Andi scratched her forehead. “You’ve ruined her day, you know? You could pay her a little bit of attention.”

He looked up quickly. His mouth had a small smear of barbecue sauce on it. Andi wanted barbecue sauce in that minute more than she’d ever wanted it. She glanced back down at her uninspiring plate of rabbit food.

“Who? Sarah? I’m a pretty good tipper.”

“No, she wants you to notice her.”

He looked in the direction Sarah had disappeared and shrugged before he returned to the ribs. He muttered, “She’s just a baby,” before taking a big bite.

Andi watched him chew for a minute and picked through her salad for the choicest, meatiest bits. “It must be nice to have all that attention.”

He mumbled something like “from babies” but didn’t look up from his meal.

Andi still wanted that barbecue sauce. “Wanda Blankenship’s no baby.”

He glanced up before he hooted. Andi looked around the nearly empty dining room and tried to shh him, but the hoots turned to guffaws and he dropped his ribs back onto the plate. When he finally managed to get control of himself, he took a long drink of his tea, then leaned across the table. He looked left and right, then he whispered, “You’re jealous!” Andi shook her head furiously as he sat back and clapped his hands twice. “Jealous! I love it! And I’m honestly relieved, Sheriff. I mean, I managed to charm my way into most of this town’s good graces, but you...you’ve been a real challenge.”

Andi tried to pretend she didn’t know him. She would have pretended not to know herself if she could figure out how. It was one thing for him to be right and a whole different thing for him to know he was right.

Andi tried to act calm. She took measured bites of her tasteless yet perfectly suitable salad and sipped her inoffensive iced tea. When Sarah came over with a refill, Andi thanked her politely.

And she waited.

After his celebration ended, he picked up his ribs again and proceeded to demolish them. When he leaned back with a sigh, he said, “All right, Sheriff. Clearly you have the hots for me but you don’t trust me. I can understand that, as I am a newcomer in a town filled with people who sprang up here when the earth was formed.” He shook a finger at her. “What I don’t understand is why you won’t work with me. In my experience, there are two kinds of cops.”

Andi sighed. “Oh, really.”

He nodded. “There’s the grandstander, who considers publicity a perk and a duty. Most places, I find a few of those and I’m set. And then there’s the strong, silent type. Apparently you’re one of those, even though some publicity would help a woman running for reelection. I mean, it was one story, Sheriff. I quoted you directly. How did we go from that to ‘no comment’ on each and every question?” The look on his face said he was mystified and maybe a little...hurt? And that made her mad.

She dropped her fork on her plate with a loud clatter, picked up her tea and tried to convince herself to let it go, just let this moment pass without telling him exactly what she thought. She didn’t need bad press now. But when she put the glass back down with a thump, he’d sat back in his chair and for the first time, he looked serious.

So she took a deep breath. “Yeah, okay. Let’s think back to that story, why don’t we? Domestic violence. You asked for a solid definition, statistics and tips on what to look for and what to do.”

“Yeah, and that’s what I put in the article. Word for word. Just the facts. None of that seems like a reason for the cold shoulder.”

Andi shook her head. “Honestly, I can’t even... Don’t you know what that story did?”

He tugged on his earlobe and considered the question. “Well, it reported on the problem of domestic violence in small communities and provided tips on how to help.” He frowned. “I’d expect you to be happy about that, Sheriff. I know it’s an issue you’re really interested in.” He tapped his finger on the table. “I called you because that was something you spoke about in your campaign. What’s the deal? Did you want more credit?”

Andi realized her tense shoulders were creeping up and forced herself to relax. “What I would have liked was for you to report the story, the whole story, not pick and choose and make me look like some...”

Mark glanced around to see if anyone was listening, and Andi realized she’d raised her voice. The kitchen was probably enjoying the show.

“Like some what?” Mark asked. “I reported the facts, and they weren’t just for this town or this county. I had other sources, too.”

Andi rubbed the crease between her brows. “What you did was pick and choose. You didn’t include my comments on how well the people in Tall Pines support their neighbors, how lucky we are to have a close-knit community, how the incidents of abuse have been in a steady decline over the past five years, or how the previous sheriff contributed to that with his own programs. You didn’t even compare our statistics to rates in larger cities. So what you did report made it sound like we were this cute little town with a big problem, and that I was convinced I could ride to the rescue.” She picked up her fork and shuffled lettuce around on her plate. “And maybe I even believed the last part, but I would never have said it.”

When Mark didn’t answer, Andi chanced a look up and saw that he’d braced both elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. Telling him the rest was easier that way. “People stopped me in the street to tell me just what they thought of my point of view and my taking credit. I got a few threats. And I’ve been...wading through public opinion since, doing my best to protect the people who elected me even though they don’t think much of me.”

His shoulders slumped. If she believed his face, he was surprised, miserable and maybe a little bit sick. “Sheriff, I had no idea. I just...I think I’ve spent so much time going after public figures that...” Mark wiped his mouth with his napkin. “How come no one in this town came after me, the new guy? You’re a native. Seems like they’d be ready to tar and feather me instead of you.”

Andi sighed. “That’s a long story.”

“One you sure don’t want to tell me because of how I’ll report it, right?” He shook his head. “I’m really sorry.”

She almost believed him. Instead of charming or teasing, his face was dead serious, the smile absent. “I just wish more journalists—” she shook her head “—no, more people, would stop to consider that there’s a lot more to truth than just the facts.”

He leaned forward again. “More to truth...” He looked like he wanted to understand but had no idea what she meant.

Andi wished she’d decided to have a microwave dinner. “Truth is...” She sat back. “In Mandarin, you’d say shí huà. The first character means real or solid and the second is more like talk or conversation or words. Mandarin’s an analytical language so you have to study the context, the order of the words, to understand the meaning.”

“So, you speak Mandarin.” He looked as if he didn’t really know what to do with that.

Andi got the same reaction from everyone in town anytime it came up. “I worked for the FBI translating, monitoring persons of interest.”

“In Chinese?”

“And Persian, although I read that better than I speak or hear it.” She felt like such an idiot for bringing it up. Possibly because he was looking at her as though she had two heads. “My point is this...in linguistics, you get a real good understanding of what words can do and what they can’t do. No matter that we’re both speaking English, truth means different things to you than it does to me. Because of context.”

Mark studied the ceiling while he thought about her answer. Finally he nodded. “I’ve got it...but to me, that’s semantics.”

Andi laughed. “Actually, that’s called pragmatics and it’s a case of six of one and a half a dozen of the other.”

Mark wrinkled his brow. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

“It’s close. You think facts are truth.”

He shook his head. “Aren’t they?”

“Not always, no. Facts are black-and-white. Truth...it has more depth.”

“Are you actually speaking Mandarin now? Because I’m afraid the conversation has gotten away from me. And that never happens. I’m a writer. I live on words, you know?”

“It’s like...the facts might be that someone broke into the Country Kitchen. You can put in the time and the amount that was stolen. You might even be able to put in the name of the thief and a confession, but that’s not the truth of the story. Or not all of it anyway. You’d be missing the context. I want to know the why. And I can’t help but look for it. That makes me good at my job. I don’t think most reporters spend a lot of time thinking about that context.” Andi shook her head. “Just let me eat my salad in peace, please.”

He reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “I’m not sure I agree, Sheriff, but I think I understand.” He shook his head. “What I don’t get is why in the world you’re still here. If you win this election, you’ve got two more years of the town’s scrutiny to look forward to. Why not head out for greener, more crime-ridden pastures? FBI experience would probably open most any door you wanted around here, wouldn’t it?”

Andi bit her lip as she tried to figure out a way to shunt him out of the Smokehouse. She’d get up herself but not without her cheesecake. “I can’t leave Tall Pines, not yet. My grandmother’s still...she needs me.” Two years ago, when she’d heard about her grandmother’s fall, Andi was frantic to get home. Her career hadn’t meant much then. Gram wouldn’t move to Atlanta, so Andi had to make her way in Tall Pines. Unfortunately, that meant old history, elections and politics.

Mark wadded up his napkin as Sarah returned to take his empty plate. He smiled up at her, then smiled at Andi. “You’re ready for your dessert now.”

Andi had cleared a bald spot in the middle of the forest of her salad. He was right. She was ready for her reward.

Before Andi could give Sarah her usual order, he said, “She’ll have her usual and I’ll have what she’s having.” Sarah smiled and marched back to the kitchen. Mark and Andi both watched her go, then Mark turned back to look at Andi. “I do appreciate your jealousy but I’m not sure you know what you’re talking about. She seems fine to me.”

Andi pointed to the table with a single twentysomething man near the window. “I think she’s got someone else to attract at this point.”

He heaved a troubled sigh. “Well, all right. At least I’ve still got you.” The corner of his mouth tilted up, but he didn’t say another thing about jealousy. “I’m surprised I hadn’t heard about your FBI experience. The first thing some people did when I moved to town is trot over to tell me all about Tall Pines’s most famous citizen.”

Andi was ready to blast out a defense. Her father had quit his job at the radio station, divorced her mother and left town to pursue his dream. He’d landed in Nashville where he hosted a popular country music talk show, and every Christmas he sent her a card with a check. Until she was eighteen, she’d lived with the morbid curiosity and sometimes pity of the people in town who knew he hardly called and never visited his daughter. She didn’t want to talk about her father, either his successes or his monumental failure.

Sometimes she had to face the bitter truth that she could place a big part of her drive to be the best and build a successful law-enforcement career at her father’s feet. She was determined to prove herself better than him, better than anyone who’d pursue their own selfish goals like that, through serving the public and excelling at all she did. But now was not the time to get into that.

Mark held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “But I don’t want to talk about that. It’s nice to know more about you. Why don’t you ask me whatever burning questions you have? You might start to see me for the fine, upstanding citizen I really am. Then maybe we could work together.”

“That’s one idea.” Sarah placed a towering slice of cheesecake complete with strawberry drizzle on the table. After she’d left both plates, Andi added, “Or you could sit there and be quiet so I can enjoy this piece of cheesecake.”

“I don’t get you, Sheriff. People generally like me. Everybody except you. And Jackie, but him I can live with.” Andi didn’t say anything, because that was exactly the problem: people always liked him. He could get away with murder because he was charming. Her father had been the same way. Everything was fun and games until he lost interest, found a better option and moved along, leaving other people to pick up the pieces. And she’d tried to do the very best job she could, but it wasn’t enough here.

He tapped his cheesecake with a fork and shook his head sadly. “You seriously do not get how this date thing goes, do you? We’re supposed to trade our favorite colors, movies, songs and end with a rousing display of our five-year plans.”

Andi tilted her head to the side. “I’m not sure I’m the one with the problem in understanding, Mr. Taylor. I’m pretty sure you could ask ten people and they’d all say a date should start with an invitation. And I’m also pretty sure we can both agree there was absolutely no invitation involved in this little dinner.”

Andi picked up her fork and took her first bite of the sinful satisfaction that was cheesecake at the Smokehouse.

“Ooh, that was a burn. I think you got me.” He watched Andi take her second bite. “If I had asked, what would you have said?”

“No. Of course the answer would be no.” Andi rolled her eyes. “You just want to talk about Jackie’s case.”

“What if I promised the case wouldn’t even come up?” Mark tilted his head to the side.

“My answer would be a louder no.” Andi sighed. “And I don’t believe you. You’ve already proven the story is king.”

He shrugged. “I’m a really good investigative reporter, and my stories are fair. You can trust me. My mother will vouch for me, of course, as a fine young man. What’s the harm in a dinner or two, just to ease relations between the paper and the sheriff’s office?”

Andi shook her head. “I don’t see the need. I won’t give you the inside scoop.”

Both of his eyebrows shot up. “You don’t see the need? For the sheriff’s office to work with the newspaper? For the woman running for reelection to get some positive press? I don’t believe it. You’re smarter than that.”

He had a point. She did her best to fight back the smile that threatened when he rolled his eyes. He forked the last bit of dessert into his mouth before he wiped it with the cloth napkin.

“Maybe you’re right about that, but is having a better working relationship with the sheriff’s office worth following me, invading my space and playing the getting-to-know-you game?” She had no idea where the question came from. Possibly the sugar rush.

Mark blew out a gusty sigh. “Yes, my job would be easier if you could see me as a good guy, one who only wants to serve Tall Pines...with the facts and your truth, if I can wrap my head around it.” He arched an eyebrow to make sure she caught his drift. Andi nodded. “And there’s something about you, Sheriff. I want to help you even when you make me crazy. As a sincere apology and proof of my good intentions, let me help with Jackie’s case.”

He motioned Sarah over and asked for coffee, then rested his elbows on the table. “Or I can keep following you around, jump out when you least expect it and ruin other desserts.”

The steady pressure of his stare got to her. She wanted to enjoy her last bites, and she couldn’t do that with him watching so closely.

He shrugged. “I used to be just like you, Sheriff. Worked harder, longer hours than anybody else because I believed in what I was doing. I wanted to save the world one news story at a time. All that got me was an angry ex-wife who didn’t believe a man could be working all those nights—so there must be another woman—an ulcer and trouble sleeping at night. But I want to help you and I’m very good at asking the right questions. Let’s work together.”

Then he waited. When Sarah returned with the coffee, Andi huffed a put-upon sigh. “Why are you even here in Tall Pines? It’s not exactly a hotbed of news or social life.”

He licked his lips, then smiled. “Okay, since I don’t think you’re going to play the game correctly because you have a decided ornery streak, I’m going to give you the long, convoluted answer.”

And Andi was hooked. That one sentence told her that he understood a whole lot more than she’d given him credit for. And she wanted to know more.

He stirred cream and sugar into his cup and placed the spoon on the saucer. “I love news but more than anything I love newspapers. I worked for my high school paper, my college paper and I studied journalism. I love the words and how they look on the page. I like how newspaper smells and I even enjoy the black smudges ink leaves behind.” With a sigh, he said, “And since you won’t ask me, I’ll tell you that I love them because my father and I would read the paper together every day. When I was little, he’d hold me in his lap and ask for my considered opinion of the headlines, but when I got older, we would talk about sports or current events at the breakfast table. He’s been gone since I was a senior in college, but newspapers remind me of those times.”

So his entire life hadn’t been charmed. It was clear he still missed his dad a lot. Uncomfortable with her discovery, she pushed away the plate that once held a lovely tower of cheesecake and asked, “But why Tall Pines?”

Andi could tell he was pleased. He believed he was reeling her in—and he just might be—but she wasn’t going to let him know.

“Burnout. It’s as simple and complicated as that. My whole life was about the job. I pursued the biggest stories I could, tried to make a name while fighting a kind of crusade. And I was very good, but everything else fell apart. Here, I love what I do again. The Times might be stories of elementary school spelling bees, histories of old farmsteads and the occasional unsolved mystery, but I like the pace. Advertising is easy to sell. There’s not much of a crime beat, thank God. I can breathe, sleep through the night and fish very badly.” He smiled at Andi. “I have a life here, not just a job.”

“Right. So were you looking for small-town papers for sale and stumbled upon the Times?”

“Nah, I actually knew the editor from way back. When he decided to sell, he sent me an email to see if I’d be interested.”

“Wasn’t it hard to pack up and move hours away to a place where you don’t know anybody? I can’t imagine trying to wedge myself into a town like this where everybody knows everybody from way back and most of them are related somehow.”

He shrugged. “It wasn’t hard. I think Jackie’s accusations helped make me a sympathetic figure, and I’ve made a real effort to fit in. If you’d told me five years ago I’d be entering cooking contests and running recipes under my column, I’d have asked what planet you were from.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them and rolled his head on his shoulders. “You aren’t going to ask about my personal life, either. I can tell. I was divorced about six months before I moved to town. She’s remarried to a corporate lawyer who makes very good money and spends every night with her. And I’m here, living the good life.”

Andi snorted and he laughed. She wondered if this might be what a really good date was like. She’d had so few of those that she wasn’t sure.

“Sounds like you might be too unbusy to help.” Andi shrugged. “And I can handle Jackie’s case on my own. Besides, how would it look if I needed your help to solve this case? Ray Evans would have a field day.”

Mark glanced around the shadowy restaurant, and Andi noticed the crowd had gotten a little larger. When she saw Sarah and Amanda with their heads together, whispering in the corner, she realized how this might look to the people in the restaurant.

“There’s an easy enough way to handle that. We’ll pretend. We’ll go out to dinner again and just like that, we’re dating. No one would suspect that I was your secret weapon then.” He reached across the table and picked up her hand. “How am I doing?”

Andi wasn’t sure if she gasped or not. His hand was hot and the tingling in her fingers was back and spreading.

“What, like a working date or something?” She jerked back her hand and straightened in her seat.

Sarah chose that minute to deliver the check. Mark snatched it out of Andi’s numb fingers, took a couple of crisp bills from his wallet and handed it back to Sarah with a smile. “Keep the change.”

She flushed before she flip-flopped back to the kitchen.

When he looked back at her, Andi wiped one sweaty palm over her brow and tried to take calm, even breaths.

For once in his life he did the right thing. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t smirk. He didn’t tap or jiggle or jostle or in any way appear impatient. When Andi managed to look at him, he just looked certain. And that scared her more than anything else.

“I don’t get you. I’ve made your job really difficult. On purpose. And now, all of a sudden, you want to help. Why?”

He shrugged. “Honestly, this is the first chance I’ve had to smooth things over. This is the first time you’ve done anything other than silently murder me with your eyes. Let me help. Think of how much better the story will be if I have all the facts...truth.” He tilted his head.

Andi looked down at her missing watch and pretended to know what time it was. She needed out and she needed him to have his head examined before the next time they met. Business, working together, that was one thing. A date, even a pretend one where they were really working, was something else entirely.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea, not even a working date. So...I need to go check on Gram.” She patted the table with both hands. “This was... Thanks for buying dinner, Mr. Taylor.” And she wanted to smack her head against the table. Mr. Taylor? That was just stupid at this point.

“Mr. Taylor?” He didn’t add on the “that’s just stupid” comment, but she could read it on his face.

Andi’s shoulders slumped and she couldn’t resist hiding her face in her hands. She finally mumbled, “Yeah, you’re right. I think we’re past that.” She was nothing if not brave. She lowered her hands and said, “Thank you, Mark, for buying my dinner.”

There were the beginnings of a smile on his face as he nodded. “You are very welcome, Sheriff. Please just think about it. Maybe when I ask again, you’ll say yes.”

Andi shrugged and put one hand over her stomach. She was afraid if she didn’t reach a calmer state soon her cheesecake was going to make a return appearance. “Change my mind? I guess maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

His smile grew as he scooted his chair back. Andi did the same and was hyperaware of him following her out of the Smokehouse. She wanted to fidget with her uniform but managed to fight off the impulse. When they made it back onto the sidewalk, they stopped. The heat had subsided to a heavy blanket instead of a frying sizzle.

Suddenly Andi couldn’t figure out what to do with her hands. She finally settled for crossing her arms over her chest.

Mark pushed his into the front pockets of his jeans. Maybe his hands didn’t know how to act right, either.

He rocked back on his heels. “Sheriff, can you forgive me for that first story? I guess I didn’t understand how things work here. After talking with you...well, maybe I’m starting to see your point.”

With a sharp nod, Andi glanced up and down the street. Jackie was looking out the window of the diner. If she didn’t get out of there pretty soon, he’d be headed her direction to demand some progress. “You made a mistake. I understand that. I’ve made a few. But...that doesn’t make it easy to forget, M-Mark.”