Rachel had meant to argue, but she found herself nodding at his reasonable suggestions, even if she’d never be able to think of “tea sessions” as opportunities for gossip again.
“Since we’re setting rules, then no more showing up unannounced. Either of us,” she added, when he pointed her way. “We text first. And no more using my front door, you know, just to be safe.”
She held out her hand to shake on their agreement, but when he stared down at her fingers instead of gripping them, she lowered her arm.
“And you’ll call if you see any white SUVs? At least any that seem out of place?”
“Of course, I will.”
Mick tilted his head and studied her as though he wasn’t sure whether he could believe her. After all the secrets she’d shared with him earlier, his doubt stung more than his rejection.
“I will,” she repeated, lifting her chin.
She crossed to the coat-tree, collected his jacket and then pressed it into his arms.
“Thanks for showing me the emails.” He pulled up his sweatshirt hood and zipped his coat.
She led him through the kitchen and opened the back door though she couldn’t turn on the light for him. “Be careful on the steps,” she said in a low voice. “They’re steep.”
As soon as she’d bolted the door, she sagged against it. What had she done? It didn’t matter how many painful stories they’d shared, how much they had in common or even that Mick was beginning to believe that her brother had been targeted. What would Riley think about her nearly falling into bed with the man who was sitting in his desk and leading his crew?
She was the selfish person she’d always been, putting her needs before everyone else’s, including her own family. If she relied on Mick for backup, it could only be while following the ground rules they’d set. Before she could do that, she needed to take charge of her out-of-control hormones and convince herself that she didn’t want what she couldn’t have.
Chapter 10
As the downstairs lights in the house across the street went dark, the driver twisted the key in the sedan’s ignition for the umpteenth time, shut off the headlights and let the wipers brush away the worst of the new snow. He gritted his teeth, at least in part, so they would stop chattering while he waited for the car to warm. Nothing could prevent him from shivering.
He rubbed at the base of his neck and then wiggled aching fingers inside his gloves. After three hours of surveillance, which included a possible case of frostbite, he had at least one discovery to show for it. The single mom had a boyfriend. Apparently, one who spent the night, given that the bundled figure, who’d entered her front door a few hours earlier, remained locked inside at lights out.
“You always were a wild one, weren’t you, sweetheart?” His chuckles formed puffs of condensation inside the car as he shut off the engine again.
How had he not been aware that someone was getting a thigh squeeze from Stan’s defiant daughter when they’d been watching her for weeks? It didn’t surprise him that the Hoffman girl had been throwing back the sheets while her little daughters were right down the hall, but he was shocked that she’d been able to keep the existence of the guy to herself.
No one in Mount Isabel could keep a secret. Well,almostno one. His lips lifted and immediately pressed flat again as he considered the effort required of those who still understood the covenant of silence.
Since he made a point of knowing everyone else’s juicy little tidbits, the fact that he’d missed this one irked him even more. So far, he wasn’t even sure how her boy toy had appeared on her doorstep since not a single car had parked on either side of Elm Street in the past three hours. Only four had tooled by on their way to somewhere else.
As for the girl playing house with her guest inside, someone should have taken her down a notch or two, long before she took off with that loser boyfriend. If he’d been a few years younger, he would have taken that assignment himself. He’d always had a taste for sweet young things, after all. Sometimes even a touch. And this young lady still resembled her captivating mother, who would never grow old. Though he often avoided digging his own fingernails in the dirt when he could find “volunteers” for unsavory tasks, he might have enjoyed a smooth dip in the mud with this one.
He smiled again until he caught sight of his phone in the passenger seat, the spider web of its crushed screen visible in the dashboard’s illumination. His fingers flexed and unflexed on the steering wheel.
Maybe chucking the cell at the windshield over that update on theInformerwebsite hadn’t been a great idea, after all. The car’s glass didn’t appear to be cracked, but he wouldn’t know for sure until morning. After everything else that had happened the past few days, who knew what other discoveries he would make then.
He grabbed the phone and tapped the screen to awaken it. When it didn’t work, he tried again without his glove, a splinter in the glass rough under his fingertip. Damn thing. Nothing—and no one—could be trusted to do a job. He returned to the newspaper website and to the headline that nearly made him throw his phone again.
Mount Isabel PD Closing in on Arsonists
Even recognizing that the local weekly wasn’t exactlyThe New York Timesin its track record for accuracy, he bristled at the claim. It was too close for comfort. He scanned down the article. No one at the police department had gone on record to say they had a suspect. Just more of the same with the Public Safety Office putting out a press release that was devoid of any facts and the local media printing it word for word.
He paused on a quote that was nothing like the ones attributed only to “police investigators” or “fire inspectors.”
“Significant evidence discovered at the scene gives us confidence that we’ll locate a suspect quickly,” said Mount Isabel Fire Chief Mick Prentiss.
“What did they do now?” He shoved his hand back through hair that grew grayer every day he was surrounded by these incompetents. The newcomer at the fire department had to be bluffing so the suspect would get jumpy. Even with years of experience in avoiding taking bait like that, a tickle edged up his spine. He squeezed his shoulder blades together, refusing to let his misgivings dig in deeper.
Clearly, Prentiss didn’t know how things were done around Mount Isabel. He’d better learn quickly. In fact, a few people needed to get their acts together.
He closed the browser and clicked on his contacts, tapping one to dial.
