Dylan tensed. This ridiculous rumor had taken on a life of its own, and it was beyond time he put stop to it. He was about to stand when he felt Lola’s hand on his arm. She shook her head, and Dylan instantly understood. Explaining what had really happened wouldn’t stop the inaccurate rumors. It would only continue to fuel them.
Besides, their goal was to get her out of this mess, not embroil her in another one.
“Jeb Dixon, hang up that phone right now!” Roy shouted, and his friend finally complied. “Now finish explaining what you saw out on Old Mill Road.”
Jeb’s thick glasses had slid down his nose, and he adjusted them with his forefinger. “Well, I figured she must have decked him, because one minute she was in the car and the next Ms. Gray was standing over poor Wilson.”
“He’s lying!” Lola practically leaped from her seat.
“Am not,” Jeb argued. “I’m what they call on those television court shows an eyewitness.”
Lola folded her arms over her chest. “Eyewitness? Humph. More like a lie-witness.”
Laughter erupted in the courtroom slash city council chambers, followed by the buzz of conversation.
“Order! Order!” Roy snatched up his gavel again and slammed it against its sound block repeatedly. “Be quiet or I’ll clear the room.”
A hush fell over the spectators. No one wanted to miss one of the most exciting things to happen in Cooper’s Place in years.
“I warned you twice, Ms. Gray. I’m swiftly approaching the end of my patience with you,” Roy said.
“With me?” Lola asked incredulously, and threw her arms in the air. “I’m already at the end of my patience, Mayor. In fact, I’m just plain fed up. I’ve already been railroaded twice today, and I’m not just going to sit back and let it happen again.” She pointed at Jeb. “This guy is either mistaken or just a big, fat liar.”
Once again, the din of conversation rose in the background.
“Whatcha going do, Lola, wallop him, too?” someone yelled.
Dylan felt a nudge at his side and turned to his mother. She gestured for him to lean in.
“This might not have been a good idea, after all,” she whispered in his ear.
He pulled back and frowned. “You think?” Sarcasm dripped off the rhetorical question.
Roy slammed his gavel so hard it fell apart, leaving him angrily clutching the handle. “That’s it, you’re now in contempt of my court, young lady,” Roy said. “You may trash hotel rooms and run roughshod over airlines in other places, but I don’t tolerate bad behavior in my court. Not from you. Not from anyone.”
“Whatever.” Lola snorted as she returned to her seat.
Dylan hoped having what she thought was the last word in the verbal sparring wouldn’t come back to haunt her. This time he didn’t hesitate to place his large hand over Lola’s smaller one, but instead of comfort and support, he hoped it conveyed a silent message of restraint.
He’d gently squeezed her hand twice when he felt her about to spring up to dispute Jeb’s testimony again. To his relief she’d remained seated. His uncle had already found her in contempt, and who knew how that would play out?
A few minutes later, Roy excused Jeb from the podium. “Has Officer Wilson arrived yet?” he asked.
“Not yet, but he’s on his way,” the town clerk replied.
The mayor looked at his watch. “I don’t have all night,” he said. “Ms. Gray, I’ll hear your side of the story next. Wilson can have his turn after you.”
Lola took to the podium and was sworn in by the town clerk. For the next ten minutes, she relayed to the mayor and half the town her account of the events on the deserted road. Dylan looked on and tried to gauge how her statement was coming across to his uncle, as well as the residents filling the gallery.
“Let me make sure I have this straight.” Roy Cooper frowned at Lola. “You expect us to believe the unlikely story that Officer Wilson took one look at your injured hand and passed out?”
Dylan watched Lola’s lips tighten. “That’s exactly what I expect you to believe, Mr. Mayor, because it’s what happened.” She pushed the words through clenched teeth. “He took one look at my bleeding hand, whispered the word blood and dropped like a rock.”
Roy grunted and crossed his arms over his chest.
Dylan didn’t consider himself an impulsive man. He thought about what he said and what he did before speaking or taking action. However, right now, he was having difficulty staying in his seat and not challenging this proceeding. If you could call it that.
His uncle Roy appeared to already have it fixed in his head that Lola was guilty and should be charged and arrested, and nothing was going to change his mind.
Not Dylan’s statement, not the report of the doctor who had examined Lola, nor Jeb’s dubious account.
But he’s not the only one who’s biased.
Kissing Lola replayed through Dylan’s head. It was one of the few times in life he had been impulsive, and although he shouldn’t have kissed her back, he had no regrets.
Still, the constant desire to kiss her again hadn’t skewed his judgment. Every cell in his body told him Lola wasn’t the culprit here. If anything, she was the victim, of hearsay and her own reputation.
“Approach the bench and show me this alleged injury of yours.” Roy examined Lola’s hand and sniffed. “Looks like nothing more than a scratch to me. I can barely see it.”
Dylan abruptly stood. “But you saw the hospital report,” he said. “I’ll grant you it’s a small cut, but it was indeed bleeding when she brought Wilson to the emergency room.”
“Yep, she was bleeding all right.”
Dylan turned around to see Avis standing in the back of the packed room, still wearing her uniform. Their outbursts had sent the rest of the spectators into a tizzy.
His gavel broken, Roy banged his fist against the dais repeatedly. “Quiet!” he shouted over the din, and then scowled. “Don’t tell me how to do my job, nephew.”
Dylan matched his disapproving look with one of his own. “Then do it justly, uncle.”
“Keep it up and you’ll be found in contempt, too. Just like your new girlfriend here.”
“She is not my girlfriend,” Dylan said firmly. Although, like his uncle, everyone in town seemed to have their minds made up on that subject, too.
His face and jaw clenched, Dylan managed to keep seated through the rest of Lola’s stint at the podium answering the mayor’s slanted questions. His mother and Marjorie harrumphed at several of them.
He could feel the fight seeping out of Lola as she took her seat next to him. Their eyes met, something clicked between them and they automatically reached for each other’s hand. Dylan couldn’t explain it, nor did he try to fight it.
However, he would fight for her even though he knew nothing could ever come of their attraction. Her future was awaiting her in New York, and he’d do whatever he had to do to make sure she made it there.
They were still gazing into each other’s eyes when every other head in the room swiveled toward the door in the back of the room. Dylan turned around.
Wilson.
The spectators broke out in applause. Several men stood and patted him on the back. The very people who had poked fun at Wilson most of his life were now greeting him as a hero. It was the most respect the young officer had received since he’d taken the job, and unfortunately, Dylan didn’t believe he’d earned it.
“That poor kid. Beaten on the side of the road and left for dead,” a woman said.
“Give me a break,” Lola whispered.
The mayor spoke into the microphone mounted to the dais. “Are you feeling up to giving us your side of the story, Officer Wilson?”
“I think so,” the rookie officer said hesitantly.
“Well,
come on up to the podium or do you need the clerk to get you a chair?”
“My tests came back fine, and I’ve been released from the hospital,” Wilson said. “I’m all right with the podium.”
Dylan caught his eye as the rookie officer walked up the aisle. Wilson spotted Lola seated next to him and averted his gaze. The young man stared at the floor until he reached the podium. Everything about his body language said he was weighed down by the guilt of his lies. Dylan was sure it would take only a few minutes of questioning for him to get to the truth.
It had been the option he’d have preferred rather than Lola taking her chances in Mayor’s Court. While Dylan was sure any decision reached at this sham of a hearing could easily be overturned or tossed out entirely, that couldn’t happen until the opening of business on Monday morning. Too late for Lola’s scheduled appearance on America Live!
Dylan stood. “Mr. Mayor,” he said, addressing his uncle by his title, “I’d like to request a short recess to give me an opportunity to finish taking Officer Wilson’s statement. We were interrupted at the hospital before I completed the interview.”
His uncle leaned back in the leather chair as he appeared to consider it. The tension resettled between Dylan’s shoulders as he awaited the older man’s decision.
“Hmm,” Roy murmured, and then shook his head. “I’ve heard what I need to know. I just need Officer Wilson to confirm a few things, so I’ll be asking the questions.”
“But—” Dylan began.
“This matter is before my court now. You’re officially off the case.” His uncle looked from him to Lola. “And in light of your obvious bias toward Ms. Gray, we’ll call a county deputy to handle any arrest. So have a seat, Chief Cooper.”
Dylan did as he was told as the beginning of an idea began to take shape in his head. He was a city employee, so the mayor was indeed his boss. However, Dylan wasn’t done with this case. Not yet.
He looked at Lola. Worry creased her face and she was biting her lip as she listened to his uncle ask Wilson a couple of amenable questions and accept his evasive answers.
“What a crock,” Virginia grumbled.
It earned her a side-eye from his uncle, but not the verbal dressing-down everyone else who’d gotten on the wrong side of him this evening had received. Not even Roy wanted to tangle with his sister-in-law.
The mayor returned his attention to the podium. “One last question, son. Do you have a phobia where blood is concerned?”
Dylan looked on as Wilson opened his mouth to speak, but exhaled a breath instead. He got the impression the rookie was about to tell the truth. However, a titter of laughter sounded in a corner of the room and quickly spread through the crowd of spectators until nearly everyone had joined in.
The young man’s demeanor abruptly changed, and Dylan knew he wasn’t about to admit to something that would rob him of his newly found respect and possibly make him, once again, the butt of jokes.
Glancing at Lola, Dylan could feel the frustration radiating off her as words from earlier came back to him.
“I’ve already been railroaded twice today, I’m not just going to sit back and let it happen again.”
Neither was he, Dylan thought. “It’s an easy question.” There were gasps in the audience at his outburst. “Either you have a blood phobia or you don’t.”
“Um... I... That doesn’t make any sense,” the rookie stammered.
“You sure about that?”
“Dylan Cooper.” His uncle angrily called his name. “Come up here, right now.”
Dylan shoved a hand in his pants pocket, stood and walked the few steps to the dais.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” the mayor asked.
“Trying to get an answer to your question,” Dylan said. “An honest one.”
Using one hand, still in his pocket, Dylan flicked open the tiny utility knife he’d confiscated at the elementary school that morning. He flinched as he pressed the small blade into the heel of his palm.
Dylan pulled his hand from his pocket and held it out. Blood oozed from a small cut as he approached the podium and held his palm a few inches from the young man’s face.
“Sit down, Chief Cooper. I’m asking the questions here,” Roy said.
Dylan ignored him.
“Again, Officer Wilson, do you have a phobia about...” Dylan didn’t get a chance to finish his question.
“Blood.”
Wilson stumbled backward and his eyes rolled up in his head. Dylan swiftly moved in and caught the young officer before he hit the ground. Then he effortlessly picked him up, tossed his limp body over his shoulder and carried him to the dais. He sat him in one of the vacant leather chairs reserved for members of the city council.
His uncle stared at him slack-jawed.
“You have your answer—now you have no choice but to put an end to this,” Dylan told the older man.
They faced off a few minutes, and then his uncle reluctantly pulled the microphone toward him. “The court finds Officer Todd Wilson was not assaulted. Therefore no charges will be filed against Lola Gray, and this matter is closed.”
Dylan exhaled a long sigh of relief.
“Need a bandage, Chief?” Avis had rushed up to the dais. She looked at the cut on his hand.
“I’m fine. It’s only a prick. Just make sure Wilson is okay,” Dylan told the nurse as he inclined his head toward the unconscious officer. “And when he wakes up, tell him he’s fired.”
Lola.
Dylan pivoted to look for her, only to see her bulldozing toward him, a huge grin on her beautiful face. In her excitement, she launched herself at him, and he swept her up as she leaped into his arms.
He felt her arms encircle his neck as she wrapped those long legs around his waist.
“Thank you,” she said. “But your hand—”
Dylan cut off her question, capturing her lips in a celebratory kiss. He held her close, and his tongue delved into her mouth. Every movement was long, slow and deliberate.
Dylan was a man of few words. However, he wanted to show her this kiss was no accident, nor a case of him getting carried away like before. His first taste of her had left him with an all-day craving, and now it was time to satisfy it.
He continued to take his time exploring her mouth. A groan sounded deep in her throat, and he felt her hands at his chest. They applied gentle pressure and she wrenched her mouth away.
“Dylan,” she whispered, glancing around them.
He followed her gaze, taking in the crowd of spectators, most of whom were still seated. Every mouth was moving, talking animatedly about this evening. Dylan suspected the event would be the main gossip for weeks. Long after Lola was gone.
He shoved the thought from his mind. Although he knew she’d be eager to see the last of Cooper’s Place, he didn’t want to think about it. Not yet.
Returning his focus to the present and the woman in his arms, Dylan saw a glimmer of self-consciousness cross her face.
Lola unwrapped her limbs from around his body. “Kissing me in public isn’t a good idea. You’re their police chief, and up until a few minutes ago, I was a suspect. Folks might think there’s something going on between us.”
Isn’t there? Dylan nearly asked. Although they hadn’t acted upon it, and he’d been denying it all day to himself and everyone else, there was definitely something going on between him and Lola Gray. An electric current of attraction he’d felt from the moment he first saw her. And every time she looked at him, Dylan knew she felt it, too.
“Right now, I’m not concerned with what anyone thinks. You’ve been cleared.” He glanced at the clock behind the dais. “And unless there’s an emergency, I’m officially off duty.”
Lola briefly consulted the same clock. “I feel like we should cele
brate, but it’s late and I need to hit the sack so I can get back on the road in the morning.”
“Maybe there’s a way for us to do both.” Dylan raised a brow. “Hit the sack and celebrate.”
A wicked smile spread across her mouth, the same smile she’d worn when she’d thought he was a stripper and had told him to get naked. “Tell me more.”
Dylan brought his lips to her ear and in a low voice only she could hear proceeded to tell her exactly how he thought they should celebrate.
Lola pulled back and faced him. She raised a brow. “For that long, huh?”
“And that hard,” Dylan guaranteed.
“Then let’s say good-night to your mother and Marjorie and get the hell out of here.”
Lola dropped her voice to a sexy growl and touched a fingertip to his chest. “This time, I’ll strip you myself. Then I’m gonna ride you like a...”
Dylan licked his lips in anticipation of her stated intentions, but feedback from the microphone at the dais drowned them out. The squawking noise, along with the pounding of his uncle’s fist, drew everyone’s attention to the front of the room.
“Quiet!” The mayor shushed the audience with one word.
What in the world was his uncle up to now? Dylan wondered. Nothing good, that was for sure.
“We’re not done here,” the mayor said. “So have a seat, Ms. Gray, and stop making a spectacle of yourself with my nephew.”
Dylan held her in place, firmly against him. “Lola’s not been charged with assaulting Wilson, so she’s free to go.”
“Yes and no.” A spiteful grin spread over his uncle’s face. “I found her in contempt of court, and she’s most certainly not free to go.”
Hushed whispers from the section reserved for spectators filled his ears, and Dylan could feel Lola trembling in his arms.
“This is bullshit,” she shouted at the dais.
Heated Moments Page 11
