Читать книгу A Minute on the Lips - Cheryl Harper - Страница 9

CHAPTER TWO

MARK TAYLOR SLID into the booth across from prickly Sheriff Andrea Jackson. Facing off against her was familiar but that didn’t make it any less interesting. Or exciting. She was not a restful person. She was...motivated. Busy. Determined to prove herself. He ought to know. He was recovering from the same obsession himself. Burnout and watching his first wife walk away with a man who’d be home every night had convinced him to try a new life, one with free time and fishing.

Covering bake sales and school plays had taken some adjustment, but he’d embraced his new life wholeheartedly and had the lower blood pressure and friends in town to show for it.

When he settled against the booth, she crossed her arms defensively. As always, he watched the sheriff closely without letting her know he did. She wore her normal spotless uniform and had her hair pulled back so tightly he was surprised she could move her eyebrows. She looked like the type of person who’d build her own ammunition just for fun. He’d bet the fortune he didn’t have that she wasn’t wearing a speck of makeup. She was too tightly wound but pretty.

He braced his elbows on the table. The sheriff flipped a page in her notebook and did not meet his eyes. “So, Sheriff, how goes the investigation?” She was stubborn and uncommunicative on the best days. He wouldn’t get much out of her without a poke.

“Fine. Want to tell me why you’re here if you had nothing to do with this?”

He shrugged. “I knew there would be a good story. We put the paper out yesterday so it’s time to start rounding up the news for next week.”

He leaned forward like he had a secret. “That’s sorta how the whole newspaper thing works, you know.”

Andi picked up her full cup of coffee and stared at it for a second. As he’d chatted with pretty, obvious Wanda Blankenship, he’d watched the sheriff and the rest of the diners. The sheriff was good at focus. She’d probably noticed every hair out of place on Jackie or Wanda, but she was bad on the periphery. He’d had experience in cataloging lots of tiny details all at once. Good stories depended on those. Oscar had refilled her cup at least once, and it was clear that this was the first time she realized it. He watched her watch Oscar and could almost see the lightbulb go on over her head.

“Do his ninjalike coffee skills make you wonder what else he might be capable of?” he asked as he reached over to ruffle the pages of her notebook. When she snapped her head back, stiffened in her seat and snatched her notebook out of his reach, he added a mental note to the list of things he wanted to know about the sheriff. What’s in the notebook?

Curiosity had always been one of his best assets. It was also one of his biggest challenges. He’d never learned how to let a story go, something his ex-wife had shouted more than once.

When he pulled his hand back, Andi took a deep, calming breath. And then she went back on the offensive. “Oscar’s skills aren’t all that important right now, Mr. Taylor. Can anyone vouch for your whereabouts between the time the restaurant closed and when you arrived this morning?”

Something about that “Mr. Taylor” got to him. He wanted to ruffle her a bit. She wouldn’t put up with it for long—she never had any time to waste. He’d better make it good.

He shook his head. “Nope, Sheriff. I spent last night at home.” He leaned forward again and looked up at her through his eyelashes. “I was all alone.”

Andi scribbled a note and met his stare again.

“Isn’t that sad?”

“That no one can vouch for your whereabouts?”

He shook his head. “No, that I was all alone.”

Andi snorted. Or tried to. It came out as a strangled snarf, but he gave her points for trying. With a huff, she retorted, “That is very sad. Hearts all over Tall Pines and the tri-county area would break if they heard such a sad story.”

He did his best not to laugh. Andi Jackson was adorable when she was riled.

“All right, Mr. Taylor. If I have any more questions, I know where to find you.” When he didn’t move, Andi raised both eyebrows. “You can go.” She made little encouraging gestures with both hands.

He started to ease out of the booth but paused on the edge. He didn’t want to leave. “You know, Sheriff, I’m a pretty good investigator. I spent a few years working the crime beat for the state paper before I came here.” His skills were a little rusty, but offering to help might get him into the tight-lipped sheriff’s good graces. Getting any info out of her was next to impossible. “I’d be happy to assist with your investigation. We could exchange information. Sure would make my job easier and the story better.”

She nodded once. “Thank you, Mr. Taylor. I will let you know if I have any questions.”

He shrugged one shoulder and stood. “I guess I’ll just have to stick close to you, Sheriff Jackson. For my readers.”

Andi slapped her notebook closed and slid it into her pocket with authority. And meaning. What would she think if she knew he found that cute rather than authoritative? He should have his head examined. “We’ll have to see about that, Mr. Taylor. I can’t have you interfering with an investigation.”

Of course not. She’d fight every step. That could be both frustrating and fun. He wanted to know what her problem was, why she fought him so hard. Some cops were glory hounds, anxious to get their names on the first page. Not Sheriff Jackson, not even in an election year. It was weird.

“I’m not sure you’re seeing the big picture, Sheriff. A newspaper editor spends a lot of time tracking down the real story and in this town, there’s a whole lot more than meets the eye. I know a few things that might surprise you.” He thumped the table with two fingers and smiled at her over his shoulder as he left the diner.

* * *

ANDI WATCHED HIM leave. She couldn’t help it. Jeans and a polo were his normal summer uniform, but it worked for him.

As she slid out of the booth, Mark stepped outside and maneuvered the heavy bench back into place under the window. When it was situated in the perfect spot, he stood up and put both hands on his hips. Their eyes met through the window and he ducked his head as if to say, See what I did there?

Andi rolled her eyes and fought back a smile. She mouthed, Thank you. He nodded once, then turned around to take a seat. Sitting on a bench and watching the world go by might actually be part of a newspaper editor’s job. The boredom would probably kill her. Andi looked around the diner. Since the breakfast crowd didn’t appear to be too hectic, she walked over to the counter. “Jackie, I’m just going to take another quick look in the back.”

He waved a hand as if to say, Sure, don’t bother me, as he went to help a customer at the cash register.

Oscar was washing dishes as she walked through the swinging door. Jackie could stand to have extra help. Andi wandered back to Jackie’s office and made note of the window over the freezer in the back. The window was small and pretty high off the ground, but someone Oscar’s size could fit through it. She stretched, but the freezer kept her from reaching the latch.

“Hey, Jackie?” Andi called out. He stuck his head through the order window. “Is this window locked?”

Jackie glanced from her to the window. “Well, yes, why wouldn’t it be?”

Andi silently counted to ten. “Are you sure it’s locked?”

Jackie’s lips moved without sound before he said, “Oscar, grab a chair and check the window.”

They both waited while Oscar floated across the kitchen to Jackie’s office. He came back with what appeared to be the first metal chair ever made. Rust dotted the legs, and Andi wondered if metal ever got dry rot. When he climbed on top, she moved behind to catch him in case the metal gave up the ghost.

Oscar yanked on the handle, and the window rose soundlessly.

“Why is that window unlocked?” Jackie’s face was a brilliant red, and Andi wondered if the three hairs he had left were going to run away in fear.

Oscar shrugged. Andi did, too. “Well, I’m going to take a look outside. I’ll let you know if I find anything new, Jackie.”

* * *

MARK DID HIS best to contain a grin when Andi turned the corner into the crazily clean alley behind the diner, saw him leaning against the wall and cursed silently. He’d have to give Sheriff Jackson credit. No matter how often he caught her off guard, she recovered quickly. This time she straightened her shoulders and resumed a precise march.

“What are you doing back here, Mr. Taylor?” She didn’t meet his stare but obviously looked to his left and right in what she’d call “searching for clues.” There were none. He knew that very well.

“Just waiting on you, Sheriff.”

Andi pulled out her phone to take pictures of the alley. “You didn’t touch anything, did you?” There was a scowl on her face. Mark figured it was an automatic reaction at this point. He decided then and there to change it. Automatic smiles were so much better, made for easier working conditions. And her smiles were really nice, probably because they were rare.

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I used to work with the police a lot. I only invaded one crime scene without permission, but I learned quickly not to do it again. The detective had a good six inches and a hundred pounds on me.”

“Did you destroy any evidence that time?” Andi glanced back to watch him.

“Nah. I got lucky. My guardian angel kept me out of trouble that time or maybe it was dumb luck. Either way, I’m pretty sure the only reason I’m standing here today is because Detective Wright yanked me back by the scruff of my neck just as I was about to make a fatal error.”

Andi was curious. He could tell by the way she turned her head in his direction without really looking at him. She was also determined not to ask. “Okay, do you want to tell me what you’re doing back here? Other than standing right beside the scene I’m investigating?” He was cramping her style. Good. That would make him impossible to ignore. She’d already given him more than her normal blank-faced “no comment.”

“Just want to make sure I’ve got enough details for my story, Sheriff.” He glanced around the alley. “I don’t see much of interest back here.”

Andi shot him a peeved glare.

He held up both hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger. Tall Pines may be the only place in the world where even the back alleys are litter free.”

He ticked off his observations on the fingers of one hand. “Pavement means no footprints or tire tracks. Window’s got no scrapes or scratches. Traffic on a weeknight is almost nonexistent so the thief had the opportunity to come in through that window, even with a stepladder, but there’s nothing here to say he did.”

Andi propped her hands on her hips. “There’s no proof that he or she did, but the window was unlocked so I can’t rule it out.”

“Not much to go on, is it?”

Andi shook her head. “On the bright side, no one murdered the mayor or robbed a bank, either.”

They walked back toward the end of the alley.

“Still, you know Jackie’s going to make your life difficult until he has someone to point fingers at.” He shrugged. “And, of course, there’s the fact that you don’t like loose ends.”

Andi frowned at him. “How do you know my feelings on loose ends?”

“Good guess.” He surveyed her neat uniform, tidy hair, polished boots and precise steps. “Let me help.”

Andi raised both eyebrows, communicating her surprise and disbelief. “Why would you want to help me? What’s in it for you?”

“I know it’s not easy to deal with an unhappy Jackie. Plus, it’s good for me, too. People read the Times for news and stuff. This would be the news. Most of the time, I’ve just got a whole lot of the stuff.” He thrust both hands in his jeans pockets. After what felt like a full minute of contemplating his arms, Andi locked both eyes back on his face. He moved closer as if he was about to tell an important secret. Andi started to lean back but managed to hold her ground. “And, if helping you out with this case means that from now on you’ll be a little more open to sharing information, I consider it worth the effort.”

When he stepped back, Andi inhaled deeply and blinked before she said, “Mr. Taylor, you and I both know why I won’t be accepting your offer. Besides, I’m really good at this. You just go ahead and toss your lure in the lake, okay? I’ll let you know how it all turns out.”

Mark whistled. “Hmm, a low blow.” He reached down and grabbed her hand to slow her forceful retreat. “Sheriff, no matter how hard you work today, there’s going to be twice as much tomorrow. Twice as many crooks. Twice as many questions with no answers. You should learn to enjoy each day anyway. The work will always be there. Don’t forget about life.” He trailed his thumb over her pulse and the smooth, warm skin of her wrist before he let her hand slide out of his.

* * *

REFUSING TO RUB away the odd warmth lingering on her wrist, Andi turned and walked over to her SUV. The sun had risen, so instead of a nice, shaded truck, it was a metal box set on broil. Add that to the fact that she’d probably had her weekly intake of caffeine between the ride over to the diner and Oscar’s ninja coffee skills and the close proximity to the newspaper editor and Andi was starting to feel a bit steamed and a whole lot jittery. She needed air-conditioning, a gallon of water and some distance. It was no wonder her fingers were tingling like that. It probably had nothing to do with Mark Taylor.

Taking a deep breath, Andi yanked open the door and managed not to take two steps back from the heat blast. Leather seats were such a bad idea.

Still, she was satisfied that she’d managed to stand her ground with Mark Taylor even if she hadn’t actually gained any. Andi dropped down in the driver’s seat with a wince at the heat baking through her uniform pants, started the car and pulled away from the curb. As she reached down to crank up the air conditioner, she looked in the rearview mirror. Mark Taylor was standing at the edge of the curb watching her drive away with that smirk on his face. Andi was suddenly less sure whether she was holding her ground or losing the battle and she just didn’t know it yet.