Full Disclosure

by Dee Henderson

  “You want me to be curious.”

  “Yes, I do. Get to know me, Ann. Then you can decide what you think about me.”

  “Is that why you’ve been asking my friends so many questions?”

  “I started asking questions the day you dropped by my office, told me a story, and handed me a case. Then I read several of your books, and I asked more questions. I’m a deliberate guy. I didn’t come here to ask you out before I’d concluded the risks were worth it.”

  “I’m not thinking about settling down.”

  “I know. That’s one of the risks. This wasn’t done to pry, Ann. Think of it more as insurance. I didn’t want to waste your time or mine. Your friends know you well, and if they’d waved me off, I would have listened. They uniformly did the opposite.”

  “I think you’ve heard a lot about me from friends, but you haven’t really met me. I’m going to surprise you in a whole lot of ways.”

  He smiled. “I know you will. I’m looking forward to it.” He looked at the time, then back at her. “Come to the door and say goodbye, and I’ll leave you your afternoon so you can stretch out on that couch and get a nap.”

  She accepted his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. She walked with him to the door.

  He took a final study of her and smiled. “We’re going to enjoy the coming weeks.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You’ll change that qualifier soon.”

  “Your confidence is interesting.”

  “So is your amusement. Get that nap, Ann. I’ll call you.”

  Paul drove home to Chicago, well satisfied with the trip. She hadn’t rebuffed his interest. He’d chosen to give her direct and she’d responded by meeting him partway with casual friendly. She wasn’t wary about starting a new relationship.

  So—friendly. He would bet it was going to be nearly impossible to get her off of friendly to something more personal and intimate. She wouldn’t move further until she decided to trust him and she would need to know a great deal more about him to reach that point. The job would be simple enough to open up for her. The family would take some time to introduce her without overwhelming her. She needed to get to know him, and he was inclined to open a few doors and help her do just that. It was a plan, and he could make progress with it.

  He liked the amusement that touched her face and words. She wasn’t a serious woman, not about the day-to-day of life. He liked her home and what it said about her, the books and the dog and the good, comfortable room where she chose to work and live. He liked the conversation and the relaxed way she approached his interest.

  “What should I have noticed that didn’t catch my attention?” He let the question to God sit out there as he reflected on the weekend. It was interesting that she hadn’t changed anything about the house between Saturday and Sunday. She hadn’t felt the need to straighten up things. She’d been dressed as casually as the day before. She hadn’t arranged food to set out for a guest—he’d been grateful for that, knowing he’d have to try what she made to be polite—but she had arranged to have a case of his root beer waiting in the refrigerator. He’d taken the first soda from the case, which hadn’t been there the night before.

  Dating was always a give-and-take. He showed his best side, so did she, and it took time to get past that effort to get to know the real person. The long-term future of the relationship depended on the ability to clearly see the other person and figure out if they were a good fit together. She hadn’t changed because he had expressed an interest. She was going to let him meet the real her. That was the most interesting fact Sunday told him.

  11

  Ann got home Monday just after six p.m. and found a chocolate bar taped to her front door at eye level. She opened the screen door and rescued the chocolate bar. It was wrapped in a piece of blue paper.

  What does it feel like no longer being Sheriff? If it’s a bad day, I hear chocolate helps. Paul

  It feels like someone took away my special badge, she thought with a smile. She gave him points for the note, and taking the time to arrange it. She wondered who Paul had helping him out on the gift, and assumed it was Neva. She carried in her mail and, after a quick glance at what was there, left it on her desk to deal with later. The evening was unscheduled and nothing had to have her attention. “What do you say we go for a long walk, Black?”

  The dog disappeared into the bedroom and reappeared with his Frisbee.

  “Oh, one of those walks, huh?” She laughed and took the Frisbee. “You want to run yourself into exhaustion, I’ll help you out.”

  She slid the candy bar in her shirt pocket and pulled a piece of jerky from the canister for Black as she wasn’t going to share the chocolate. Out of habit she tucked a notepad and pen in her back pocket and then headed out the front door. “Let’s go, boy.”

  The sun was still bright, the sky clear, and the sunset still some time ahead. She set out at a good pace down the country road as Black roamed ahead of her.

  “His note asked an interesting question.” She liked to talk to God as she walked, and she settled into the conversation knowing she had a lot she wanted to discuss. “I’m glad I’m no longer the sheriff. I’ve been carrying the weight of it with me ever since I accepted the badge. The duties belong to others now, and I’m breathing easier for it. As much as I loved being sheriff, it’s good to have it done.”

  She spotted a chipmunk searching the ground near a fence post and paused to watch him, knowing as soon as Black spotted the animal he’d disappear back into the heavy grass.

  “What are you thinking, Lovely? Time is mine now, outside of MHI calls, and I can take those anywhere. I could travel to see friends, or I could stay put and work on a story—for that matter I could work on a story anywhere. I just need a pad of paper and some quiet. Do you have a preference for where I am? I don’t know that I have a particular preference, other than a desire to catch up on some sleep.”

  She tossed the Frisbee for Black, and he raced ahead of her to grab it. Home sounded good. Sleeping in. Finishing Jennifer’s story. She could pick up a paintbrush and finish the painting on the easel. She retrieved the Frisbee from Black, ruffled his ears.

  Tonight she wanted to walk to the river and watch the sunset. God probably had something planned for the coming months, He normally did, but she was content to wait and see what came. Paul was interesting. A romance. She smiled just remembering the way he had phrased it. She rather liked this cop, and the way he handled himself. Kate liked him and that told her a lot about him. Kate had a good read on people.

  She knew Paul’s brother Boone, and one of his cousins, Luke Falcon. She’d written a book about Vicky and Boone. She’d also done a book about Luke and Caroline, and it was only a matter of time before Paul picked up that book and realized it. She remembered meeting his parents at Vicky’s wedding.

  “Where might this be going? I’m interested. I’ll enjoy a movie with him. But he very clearly laid the ground. He’s the first guy I’ve met who is intentionally looking to be married. I’m not. I haven’t thought about getting married in a serious way in years. I certainly wasn’t planning to open that question this year. I’ll like the friendship; I’m just feeling lost on the rest of it. This came out of left field on me. I don’t have my bearings, so I need you to keep the road straight for me. The last thing I want to do is mess up what could be a very good year with a relationship mess.”

  The fact she was worrying about it already was depressing. It was her first day of freedom and should be enjoyed. She pushed the problem on to God’s list and off hers. Guys were always a dilemma, and she’d given up thinking she could figure out relationships with the ease she could do murder cases. She dug the chocolate bar out of her pocket and offered the jerky to Black.

  The first bite had her looking at the chocolate bar and straightening out the wrapper. Paul had really good taste in chocolate. She broke off another piece and wondered if one of his family’s companies had made it.

  Black stepp
ed in her path and angled for her to share. She laughed and ruffled his fur. “I’ll find you something special for dinner when we get home.” She offered the Frisbee to distract him and gave it a smooth toss. She finished the chocolate as the river came into view.

  By the time they looped around and came back home, they had wandered almost five miles. It was the nicest walk Ann could remember in months.

  Paul called just after nine p.m. Ann paused what she was writing to answer the video call. The image stabilized and the audio bar turned green. He was in his kitchen. She could see the corner of a spice rack and part of a counter where a cutting board was in use. Something leafy and green. His smile had her answering in kind.

  “I was hoping I would catch you at home. How did you like the chocolate?”

  “The English language doesn’t have a rich enough word for how good it was.”

  “Thought you might like it. I was afraid it would melt on you, or attract ants.”

  “Neva was your courier?”

  “Yes.”

  “She probably taped it to my door five minutes before I arrived home. She has more people to clue her in on where I am than my parents ever did. She would have considered the chocolate a proper gift.”

  “So she told me. Last day go okay?”

  “The mayor brought a cake, and most of the town stopped by at one point or another, so they could tour the famous evidence vault that Jesse James tried to break into. I had to promise the town council that I would have the vault door permanently removed so no kid could lock another kid in once the building is the community center. What are you fixing?”

  He tipped the bowl to show her the diced vegetables. “My sister’s version of a salad. She’s had too much time on her hands this last month. She went shopping and restocked my refrigerator as if I cook for two dozen. Since I can’t stand to see fresh stuff go bad, I’m eating a lot of vegetables. But the zucchini she can have back, and the eggplant.”

  “It’s late for dinner. Long day at the office?”

  “Falcons reopened today and most of my family is at the restaurant. I stopped by for a couple hours this evening to greet guests and confirm all was well. Somehow I managed to leave with dessert and not a meal. I just tossed a steak on the grill to go with the salad.”

  “What’s for dessert?”

  “Jackie’s hot blueberry dish. It’s exceptional. She loved the book, by the way. Remind me to get it back to you.”

  “Pass it on to another reader. It’s what I do with books I like.”

  “I’ll do that. I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Tell me about flying. Who taught you? Why do you like it?”

  It was a topic close to her heart, so she settled more comfortably into the chair to enjoy the conversation. “My neighbor taught me to fly. He owned a small Cessna for his business. I started going up with him when I was fourteen, taking lessons when I was sixteen. I got my license as soon as I was old enough to apply, and I’ve accumulated more ratings on more types of aircraft over the years.

  “I love being in the air, higher than the clouds when the sun sets and the colors ripple out. It’s my place. There aren’t crowds, and cars, and places to be in a hurry that keep you from enjoying the view. In the air there is just open space and a scene spread out before you.”

  “It sounds peaceful, Ann.”

  “It is. I love the Great Plains from the air, where the land below is winding rivers and miles of open grazing land and neatly planted fields. I don’t like flying over busy cities. I don’t like deserts and high mountains unless it is absolutely necessary. And I hate flying over extended bodies of water. If I’ve got one fear as a pilot, it’s having to ditch in water. Give me a good floatplane if I’m going to be flying around water.”

  He started to ask her something, then stopped.

  “What?”

  “There’s no polite way to put this question, it just is. Have you ever crashed?”

  She laughed. “I’ve had landing-gear problems, icing problems, bad fuel, fouled oil lines, once had parts explode in an engine. But I’ve never actually crashed. I’ve had to glide a few times, had a few hard landings. There have been some white-knuckle moments when I’ve had only a few moments to figure out a problem. It comes with the number of hours in the air. I dread landings most, when the winds have a mind of their own, and the calm becomes a hand reaching out to grab you and toss the plane around.”

  “You scare me.”

  She just smiled.

  “Do you ferry planes for particular companies or people?”

  “Not by plan, but I’ve flown for enough years around the Midwest, people keep me in mind. Every airport has a guy who is a matchmaker, putting together planes and pilots. It’s typically the refuel guy, as he’ll know what planes are on the ground or are coming through. If I want to head somewhere, I’ll check in at the airports and see if there’s a plane needing to go my direction. I know where the private airstrips are, where repair work is done, where hangar space rotates for public charters. Planes are forever not where their owners would like them to be. I can find a plane easily and can often put a couple ferries together to get to my final destination. If I’m stumped and I need to be somewhere, I have a long list of names I can call to borrow a plane on short notice. The average small plane only flies one to three times a week. That’s a lot of hangar time.” She paused. “I can almost smell that steak from here. I’m going to let you go so you can eat dinner while it is hot.”

  “I wish you were here to join me. Do you think Black knows what I’ve got on this plate?”

  She glanced down at her dog, who had maneuvered in to see what he was doing. “He knows the word steak.”

  Paul laughed. “Sorry, fella. Good night, Ann.”

  “’Night, Paul.”

  Ann spent three days in Kansas on an MHI call, then stopped at Neva’s on the way home. She shared a piece of pie and town gossip and some laughter, gathered up Black, and headed to her house. She found a note taped to her front door.

  Ann, call me when you get home. Paul

  A second note below from her neighbor simply had a big smiley face. She was dating. That’s what it felt like more than anything else. There was a relationship under way. Neva had tactfully not asked a single question about him while they shared the pie, but it had been there in the twinkle in her eyes. Paul wasn’t being conventional, calling and leaving her voice-mail messages. He was arranging to leave her actual notes to enjoy when she finally got home. She liked it.

  Black disappeared down the hall, and a squeak erupted from his rubber duck. Then his spinner whistled. She heard dog feet on the floor race toward the kitchen. The talking bird started talking. She smiled. Used to the routine, she still enjoyed it. Black had to do a count of his toys to make sure they were all where he had left them. She dumped her travel bag on her bed and unpacked. She waited for the bear to growl, and when it did she leaned out into the hall and saw Black carrying the bear with him toward the living room. Still his favorite. She tossed laundry in the washer, then repacked so the bag was ready to go again at a moment’s notice.

  “Comfortable, Black?”

  His tail smacked the floor. He had the bear in a stranglehold in his paws, chewing on an arm. She got a cold soda and connected the video link to Paul. “Calling, as requested.”

  His smile warmed her heart. “It’s good to see you, Ann. How was the trip?”

  “I’m not going to mention the case, as it took the whole flight back to even start to forget it. The flight itself was interesting. A lot of crosswinds, and the thermals were ugly. Hot summer air can be some of the most challenging for flying. On the bright side, the scenery was gorgeous.”

  “I’ll just say I’m glad you’re safely home. How’s Midnight?”

  She turned the camera so he could see. “Say hi, Black.”

  The dog paused his enthusiastic chewing long enough for a single bark.

  “He looks happy to see you home.”

  “Neva
spoils him. What about you? How’s your day been?”

  “Paperwork—reading over interview transcripts.” He held up the pages in his hand. “It came home with me. The team has done forty-six out of the one hundred twenty-three interviews, and so far nothing solid is showing up. We’re not getting the reaction to the middleman photo or the amounts that I had hoped. Ten of the thirty murders are now officially cold again.”

  “Ouch. I’ll let you get back to your reading.”

  “Ann, leave the video on, and we can share the evening. Go get a book to read, find a show to watch, work on a story, whatever you want to do with your evening. Just spend the time with me. We don’t have to say anything to enjoy each other’s company.”

  “It’s a nice thought, but—”

  “You have plans for the evening? Company coming over? You want me to go away and are too polite to say so?”

  “I talk to myself. Or more accurately, I talk to the dog.”

  He grinned. “Will you get embarrassed if I say that’s endearing?”

  She smiled. “I don’t want to feel on display in my own home, so no, let’s end the call.”

  “You have to trust me sometime, Ann. Why not start with what you tell your dog when you think no one else is listening? How about I promise, unless you say, Paul, I’ll ignore what you are saying?”

  “Don’t try to be so reasonable. I’m likely going to read a book. That’s exciting.”

  He held up the pages in his hand.

  “Point taken.”

  “Share your evening with me. I’ll enjoy your company.”

  “We’ll try it. But I reserve the right to change my mind without notice.”