Dad for Charlie & the Sergeant's Temptation & the Alaskan Catch & New Year's Wedding (9781488015687)

by Stewart, Anna J. ; Sasson, Sophia; Carpenter, Beth; Jensen, Muriel

  “Nobody likes a soggy bike ride,” Mrs. Hastings agreed.

  “Would you like me to fix the tea?” Paige asked and earned a stern look from Mrs. Hastings.

  “You mean can you go snooping through my kitchen to see if I took my medication this morning.”

  Paige grinned. “That, too.”

  Mrs. Hastings harrumphed. “Well, you’re honest, I’ll give you that. I took my pills. Don’t want you and that nosy deputy of yours poking around my business.”

  “Fletch is not my deputy.” Even as she said it, her cheeks went hot. She avoided her daughter’s curious expression. “He was concerned about you and rightly so, given you almost passed out in front of him. Keeping up with your regimen is the best way to make sure you’re around for a while. I feel pretty secure speaking for most people I know, we’d miss you, Mrs. Hastings.”

  “I would,” Charlie announced. “And you know what else? I think you’re right, Mrs. Hastings. I think Deputy Fletcher likes my mom.”

  “Do you, now?” Mrs. Hastings turned amused eyes on Paige. “That boy always did have good taste.” Mrs. Hastings cackled at Paige’s mortified expression. “How about you come and help me fix the tea, Miss Charlie. Teach your mom a thing or two. Paige, you take a seat and relax. If you know how to, that is.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Paige reminded herself of Fletch and she did as she was instructed, watching with a slightly heavy heart as Charlie took hold of Mrs. Hastings’s hand and slowed her pace to walk beside her.

  Their lowered voices spoke of conspiracies and secrets and, knowing her daughter, treasure boxes, but Paige didn’t mind. She loved the idea of Charlie becoming acquainted with as many different people as possible. The sound of running water and the clacking gas flame lulled Paige into a daze as she admired the bookshelves filled with books and memories, photographs and mementos of a well-lived life.

  “Hey, Mom, guess what!” Charlie ran into the living room and set a plate of cookies down on the table. “I talked to Mrs. Hastings about her medicine and she wants to give me a job!”

  “A job?” Paige pushed herself up in her chair. How long had she been out of things? “What kind of job?”

  “Seeing as you all clearly think I need a keeper—” Mrs. Hastings stood in the doorway, a stern albeit understanding expression on her face “—Charlie could stop by here in the morning on her way to school, then again on her way home. That’s about the time I take my pills. That way she can report back to you and Deputy Fussy Pants that all is well. She could also help me with some little chores around the house. Child could use some spare pocket money, I’m betting.”

  “Please, Mom, can I? Now that Simon’s not around that much, I get so bored and I love it here.”

  The last thing Paige should be encouraging is a connection that would be difficult to break, but how could she resist both Charlie and Mrs. Hastings ganging up on her? “If you’re sure she won’t be a bother.” Paige reached out and drew Charlie to her side; pride that Mrs. Hastings would offer Charlie a job warmed her from the inside. She might have screwed up a lot of things over the years, but she’d exceeded all expectations when it came to her daughter.

  “And she has more books than the bookstore,” Charlie said. “She said I could borrow some. And maybe we could plant some flowers in her backyard.”

  “Well, didn’t you two have a long talk in the kitchen.” Paige patted Charlie on the hip. “You up for all that, kiddo?”

  “Yes. It’s like what you do all the time. I’m so glad we came here, Mom.” Charlie looped her arms around Paige’s neck and squeezed. “I don’t ever want to leave.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “YOU LOOK LIKE you could use this.” Abby slid a slice of triple chocolate cheesecake in front of Paige and dropped into the chair across from her.

  Paige glanced up from the list she’d made of where Jasper O’Neill might be hiding. She’d already crossed off more than a dozen places Willa thought he might go. If Paige timed things out properly, she could check the rest by the weekend. All she wanted was a chance to talk to him, to get a feel for what was really going on before Fletch managed to track him down. If Jasper was in trouble as Paige suspected, maybe she could convince him to go with her to talk to Fletch…and ask for his help.

  “Cheesecake?” Paige’s sigh stopped halfway in her throat. “Ah, you didn’t make this, did you, Abby?” Paige asked with what she hoped was a teasing lilt in her voice.

  “Just for that, you lose the first bite.” Abby forked off a chunk and popped it in her mouth. “Boy, that man of mine really knows what he’s doing in the kitchen.” She sat back in her chair with a contented smile on her face.

  Paige followed her gaze out the window of Flutterby Dreams and wished she could lose herself in the sound of the waves crashing over the rocks far below. After making a colossal cake mess in their own kitchen, Charlie had insisted she needed to see Simon tonight. They had something serious to discuss that could not wait one more second. One phone call later, Paige found herself at the Flutterby Inn for an early, quiet dinner. Simon and Charlie sat nestled at a corner table eating butternut-squash-infused macaroni and cheese and working on some secret project that made Paige’s chest constrict.

  “You have any idea what those two are up to?” Paige had lost track of the number of times she’d asked that particular question. Normally she would be asking Holly.

  “Not a clue,” Abby said. “Simon’s had his nose glued to that notebook of his for the past day and a half. And I don’t think it has anything to do with school.”

  “Doesn’t he have homework to do?” Paige was beginning to think the busier Simon was, the easier her own life would be.

  “His new school doesn’t believe in homework.” Abby smirked. “Yeah, something Holly sprang on me after we agreed to keep a hold of him. Funny how that worked out.”

  “Trust me, fighting the homework battle is not fun. Count yourself lucky.”

  “What’s going on, Paige?” Abby reached across the table and nudged the plate closer. “Something’s bugging you. I can tell because you tend to run silent when your mind’s racing. I thought about putting truth serum in the chocolate sauce, but Jason said that was overkill.”

  “Smart man, your Jason.” Unable to resist any longer, Paige scooped up her own bite and dived in. “Something odd happened with Fletch today.”

  “Define odd.”

  “He yelled at Charlie.” Part of her still couldn’t quite believe it.

  “Fletch?” Abby’s eyebrows shot up and disappeared under her blond waves. “That doesn’t sound like him. Did she tell you what happened? Why he yelled at her?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” Paige nodded. “Something about the water and the beach and her going down there unsupervised. He owned up to it, by the way. Didn’t try to hide it, which I give him credit for. But he just seemed really upset by it.” Way more than he should have been.

  And that bothered her more than it should.

  “Yeah, well, our neighborhood deputy isn’t exactly known for confrontation. That said he’s definitely a ride-to-the-rescue kind of guy. I’ve never known anyone so willing to do whatever it takes to protect his family and friends.”

  Paige agreed. Fletch was attentive when it came to trying to make other people’s lives easier, hers included. Not that she made it easy for him. How was he to know doing so could do more damage than good? “I don’t know. With Charlie, it felt like more than that.” She’d never seen that particular look in his eyes before. Sad. And sad simply didn’t suit him. “I almost felt as if he’s punishing himself for what happened.”

  “I’m curious as to why you care.” Abby folded her hands on her stomach and stretched out her legs, the bright peach floral dress she wore settling around her knees. “I thought you weren’t interested in him.”

  “So that
means I shouldn’t care when something’s bothering him?” Paige closed her book.

  “Pretty much.” Abby grinned. “I knew you were protesting a little too loudly. You do like him.”

  “Everyone likes Fletch,” Paige countered. “I just don’t like to think of anyone in pain.”

  “Then might I suggest you have this conversation with him instead of me?”

  But that would mean having to have an actual conversation. It would mean expanding on what was already too friendly a relationship. And because…because… “That might have been an option before. Now, I’m not so sure. It’s like he closed some kind of door in my face.” And she didn’t like the feeling at all.

  “That definitely doesn’t sound like Fletch.” Abby frowned. “But it does sound as if you got what you wanted. Except now you have me curious. Too bad Lori’s out of town. Otherwise we could pick her brain about this. Want me to talk to her the next time she calls?”

  “No.” Paige shook her head. “No. I think you’re right. If I’m this concerned I should just ask him directly.” As if that wasn’t going to open a whole new can of worms. No good would come from prying. She needed to let it go. “I’m probably making more out of this than I need to.”

  “I’m not so sure. I’ve known Fletch more than half my life, Paige. In all that time I’ve never seen him go all googly-eyed like he does when you and Charlie are around. If he’s pushing you away, there’s got to be a pretty big reason. And I, for one, would be very interested to know what that reason might be.”

  * * *

  “WHAT’S THE MATTER with you?” Simon sighed and rested his cheek in his hand. “I thought you wanted to get your mom and Deputy Fletcher out on a real date.”

  “I did. I do.” Charlie couldn’t sit still. She tried to keep her voice down. Her mom and Abby were watching both of them as if they knew she and Simon were planning something. Which of course they were.

  Even though her mom had tried to make her feel better about what had happened at the beach, she couldn’t stop thinking about how Deputy Fletcher had yelled at her. He’d scared her. And… Charlie rubbed a hand against her chest. He’d hurt her heart. “Does Luke ever get mad at you? Does he yell?”

  “Luke? No.” Simon shook his head. “My mom does, though. But that’s because I’d try the patience of a saint.” He puffed out his chest as if his statement was something to be proud of.

  “So he never got angry with you? Not even when you broke his computer?”

  “Sure he did.” But Simon shrugged it off. “He got real mad, but we talked it all out and he said it was okay to be angry with him for all the stuff I’d heard he’d done. We worked it out like men.”

  Charlie’s nose wrinkled. What did that mean? “But he didn’t stay mad at you, right? He still likes you?”

  “He must. He’s adopting me.” Simon frowned and looked at her. “Did Fletch get mad at you for something?”

  “Yeah. But my mom says it’s because I scared him and he overreacted.” She still wasn’t completely convinced she hadn’t broken something between them. She looked out the window into the dark, wondering yet again how close those ocean caves were. If their plan to get her mom and Deputy Fletch together didn’t work, she’d have only one thing left to try.

  But that she’d have to do on her own.

  “Moms and dads yell,” Simon said. “Well, except for Luke, but Mom says that’s because his dad was really, really mean. Yelling is part of the job. Trust me, I’ve been yelled at a lot. It doesn’t mean they don’t love you anymore.”

  “I don’t think he liked doing it,” Charlie thought out loud. “I made him a cake, so maybe he’ll like me again.”

  “Why wouldn’t he like you anymore?”

  Charlie sighed. “I told you. He yelled at me.”

  “Yelling at a person and not liking someone are two different things. Look.” Simon closed his notebook and brought his head in real close. “Once we do what we’re going to do, there’s no going back. I promised you I’d help, but you have to be really, really sure. I can’t get into any more trouble.”

  “It’s not trouble if you’re helping a friend,” Charlie said.

  “Doesn’t mean what we’re doing is right. We can use one of the other ideas.”

  “I’m not going to run away and scare my mom so she asks Deputy Fletcher for help.” Charlie had her limits. “And I’m not going to lock them in the freezer at the diner.” Where did he come up with this stuff? From those stupid comic books of his, probably.

  That new school of his wasn’t doing him any good as far as she was concerned. Simon was becoming…boring.

  “Then this is what we’re left with. We just need to find a way to pay for it. So.” Simon tapped his pen on his notebook. “Does your mom have a credit card we can use or not?”

  Charlie’s heart sank. “I thought you said we could use your mom’s.”

  “The one I memorized expired and I can’t find the replacement one.” Simon’s face twisted in disgust. “She must have taken it with her. It’s like she doesn’t trust me to leave it lying around.”

  Charlie didn’t answer. She didn’t like lying, especially to her best friend. But not answering him turned out to be just as bad.

  “Charlie?” Simon narrowed his eyes. “Does she have one we can use?”

  “I’m not supposed to know about it.” Charlie sat back and scratched her finger into the paper of her own notebook. “It’s only for big emergencies.”

  “This is an emergency.” Simon looked like he was getting angry with her. Charlie tightly shut her jaw. She was tired of people getting upset when all she wanted was to have a real family like Simon did. “Do you want Deputy Fletch as your dad or not?”

  “Fine.” Charlie ducked her head. “I’ll get it.” But she didn’t have to like it.

  “And I’ll need to use your mom’s computer. What?” His eyes went wide when she glared at him. “Abby won’t let me use hers without her watching, and I can’t do this at school. As important as this is to you, I’m not going to risk getting kicked out.”

  “I’ll figure it out.” This getting-adults-to-like-each-other thing was more work than she expected. She was tired of trying to be sneaky. She didn’t like keeping secrets or lying.

  But if it was the only way for her to get a dad of her own, if it meant she’d never have to leave Butterfly Harbor again, she didn’t have a choice.

  * * *

  FLETCH SAT UP behind his desk, stifled a yawn and stretched as he finished sorting the property information he and Oz had gathered yesterday. With Oz currently out on morning patrol, Fletch was manning the station and trying not to let the lack of sleep get to him.

  As if he needed confirmation four and a half hours of driving around Butterfly Harbor in the dead of night was not conducive to productivity. He hadn’t come across a hint of a disturbance, and as near as he could tell, Jasper O’Neill had vanished. The entire case felt like a waste of time, and he had less than twenty-four hours before he needed to report in to his highness the mayor and convince him he was close to stopping the mini-crime wave for good.

  Matt’s truck rumbled in the parking lot. Fletch gave a silent prayer of thanks for the reprieve. So far his big property-connection idea had turned up zilch, at least not with the limited information they’d gleaned to date. Oz was doing his bit keeping the mayor’s assistant abreast of things; that Oz had mentioned the cute redhead on more than one occasion told Fletch he didn’t have to worry about that task falling through the cracks.

  Fletch wasn’t giving up. In fact he’d reached out to the county assessor’s office, but as he was in meetings for the rest of the day, once again, they were in hover mode. Whatever was going on with these break-ins and vandalisms, Fletch was more convinced than ever there was more to the crimes than mere delinquency.

>   Fletch fixed himself a cup of coffee, adding a second pod to the machine as the door opened.

  “Miss me?” Matt’s bellow rang through the station.

  Cash sat up. “Woof.”

  “Ah, thanks, Fuzz Face. I missed you, too.” Matt grabbed one of the treats they kept on the counter and gave it to the dog. The quiet, distinctive click of Matt’s prosthesis served as the only physical reminder of his service in the army. The loss of his leg, near as Fletch could tell, hadn’t slowed the former soldier down. As Matt was fond of saying, he’d made it home. A lot of his fellow grunts hadn’t; reason enough to be grateful. “What’s going on around here? You find Jasper yet?”

  “Not a sign of him,” Fletch said. “I think we’ve hit a wall, so we’re going to let you take a crack at it. Fresh eyes and all. Unless you have something to share?”

  “Didn’t take you long to ask.” Matt headed to the coffee machine and set a piece of paper on Fletch’s desk. “Kyle gave me a couple of names for you to check out. Some of the places they used to hang. He says he hasn’t been in touch with any of his friends. I checked with the officers in charge and they back that up. Kyle didn’t seem that torn up over someone trashing his house, so I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt and believe him, especially since he didn’t give me any grief for asking.”

  “Kyle was never destructive for destruction’s sake,” Fletch said. “What he did was out of self-preservation.” No doubt it was making a difference to have someone actually interested in his well-being. Given Kyle had managed to squat in one of the Flutterby Inn’s on-site cottages for a few weeks before anyone—anyone being Luke—caught on, he was probably the best source they had. “We all get that.”

  “We do, indeed. Anything exciting happen while I was away?” Matt made his way to his desk against the far wall, unloaded his stuff and slipped his sidearm into the locked file cabinet.

  “Nothing of note,” Fletch said. “Oz should be back in a bit. We both went on extra patrol last night, trying to stave off any new break-ins.”