by L. A. Fiore
“Arissa! Hey, Sugar.”
Arissa’s eyes were still adjusting, but she smiled sincerely at Jo. “Hi, Jo.” Reaching Jo’s desk, she dropped her elbows on the counter. “How are you?”
“I’m good.” She gestured down at her desk. “For a small town, we sure do keep busy. What brings you here?” she asked, then stood and took in Arissa’s outfit. She whistled, earning attention from some of the officers close to her desk. “Don’t you look good. Where you off to?”
“Charleston. I have to put out some fires, but I was hoping to talk to Hank before I left.”
Jo’s smile faded a little when she revealed, “Oh, Sweetie, he’s not here. He’s been spending a lot of time in Huntsville. Helping the sheriff there with an arson.”
Arissa didn’t hide her disappointment, but she couldn’t stop the smile either because that was Hank, the man she was falling for, offering a hand when one was needed. She was tempted to call him, because she hated knowing she’d left him with doubt about them when there was none, at least not from her, but he didn’t need her calling him while he was working. Texting was out. It was a conversation that should be done in person.
“You alright, Honey? You need to talk?”
“I do, but it’s Hank I need to talk to.”
Jo reached for her phone. “Want me to call him?”
“No, I don’t want to bother him while he’s working. I’ll try calling him later.”
“You sure. It won’t take but a minute.”
Arissa almost said yes, she wanted to talk to him so badly that she’d be okay with Jo and half of his staff overhearing the conversation. But she didn’t imagine Hank would be too happy about that. “No, it’s okay but thanks.”
“All right, Honey, if you’re sure.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Thanks, Jo.” Arissa turned for the door but looked back to confirm. “We’re still on for Friday, the dart game?”
“You bet your ass.”
She couldn’t help but smile around Jo. She had an infectious personality. “See you later, Jo.”
“Later, Honey. Drive safely.”
Arissa got back in her car. She loved Charleston, the draw of the lights and sights, but there was someone in Summerville that had a stronger pull on her and when she got back, she was going to let him know it.
* * *
Hank climbed into his truck. It had been a long week. From sunup to sundown, he spent in Huntsville, coming home to shower and sleep. Only to get back in his truck and take the hour and half trek back out there. But with his help they shut the case of the rampant arsonist. When you lived in a small town, it was pretty easy to pinpoint who was doing what. Since the quarterback of the high school football team didn’t receive the scholarship he wanted, he took that anger and used it to hurt others, altering his future to one he never intended. Sheriff Muller was a down-to-earth good man, which is why Hank knew he’d give the kid hell for a few years before letting him off the hook. Brett wasn’t a bad kid, just didn’t know how to handle rejection.
Sitting across from Brett earlier that day, Hank was giving him advice on how to handle situations that handed you hardships, but he almost choked on his own words. Here he was trying to help the kid understand how to handle refusal while he wasn’t doing so good a job himself. Hank wasn’t parading around town setting shit on fire, but he also wasn’t facing the situation head on. He didn’t step up and call Arissa, asking her what went wrong.
He pulled into the station just as the sun started to dip below the horizon, casting an orange hue on Main Street. Stepping from his truck, he looked around. All was quiet, and still in one piece. Thank fuck. His eyes roamed down one end of the street then the other. He told himself he was scouting out the town, when in reality he was looking to see if he saw Arissa out and about.
He pulled the station door open and was greeted with a huge smile and a, “There’s my sexy sheriff. Good to have you back, Boss.” Jo rose from her seat and came around the counter. She pulled him into a bear hug, trapping his arms at his sides.
“What happened?”
Jo took a deep breath and started, “Well, there was an accident—”
“What kinda fucking accident,” Hank spit out, twisting his body from Jo’s grip till he got free.
“Calm down,” she expressed, pumping her hands down toward the ground, her flashy blue nails swinging as she did. “Rob bet Mike he couldn’t climb out of the small bathroom window, because you know, he’s gained a few pounds since Dehlia started selling all those new baked goods and—”
“And?” Hank spat out with his hand rolling to move her along.
“I’m getting there, Sheriff.” Jo placed her hands on her hips and leveled her eyes on him. “Why are you so grouchy?”
“The fucking accident, Jo,” he said in a loud tone. Rob was coming from the break room, saw Hank and turned back around. “Get over here!” Hank shouted at him.
“I swear I didn’t think the sink would come off the wall—”
Hank cut him off, his voice low and hard. “Come again?”
Rob nervously swung back onto the heels of his feet. “Mike climbed on it to get to the window.” He put his hands up. “I didn’t tell him to get up on the fucking sink and—”
Hank halted his words again. “And how in the fuck did you think he would reach the window?” He realized he was asking a grown man to give him details about the antics that went down while he was gone. He put a hand up. “Never mind. I don’t even wanna fucking know.” He looked at Jo. “Has Billie been called?”
“Yep, he’ll be out tomorrow,” she said proudly that she was able to give him some positive news.
“Fine,” Hank said, and started toward his office.
“That’s it?” He heard Rob ask his back.
“Yep,” Hank said, never halting his steps.
Jo said to Rob. “Well, that was easier than we thought.”
“Yeah,” Rob expressed with confusion. “Too easy.”
Hank was about to shut the door behind him, shutting out their conversation, when Jo yelled to him. “Arissa stopped by!”
Hank stopped and rotated on his feet. “Come again?”
“She stopped to talk to you a few days ago on her way out to take care of business in Charleston.”
Hank waited and when she didn’t go on, he drawled, “And?”
“She was in this cute pencil skirt with a blouse to die for.” Jo threw her head back and hollered. “If I didn’t like men so much I would have… Mmm.”
“She looked fucking fine—” Rob added, but stopped when Hank let out a low rumble from his chest, eyes pinned on Rob. “She looked nice. Yeah… nice,” Rob corrected and took off toward his desk.
“What did she want?” Hank asked Jo who was fanning herself.
“Oh, to talk to you.”
“About?” Hank was getting tired of the back and forth.
Jo shrugged. “No clue, but said she’d get a hold of you.”
“Thanks,” Hank said, and shut his door.
He leaned against it, she came to see him, she wanted to talk. But she never did get a hold of him. Hmmm. His mind didn’t linger too long on that when he spotted the blue folder sitting on his desk. Settling behind it and opening the file, he was greeted to all the findings that Mike had collected. He was right, Bruno Knobbs didn’t have much on him and from what Hank was reading, lived a boring life. Hank found this odd because Phoebe moved to the city for the exciting life and this guy didn’t seem to have one. A flick of a few more pages had Hank staring at an eight by ten print out image of Phoebe and Bruno smiling at the camera. She hadn’t changed one bit. Didn’t even look like she aged a day. But knowing her as well as he had, he didn’t expect any different. He flipped that page and saw the breakdown sheet on her. Her eye for ads must’ve landed her a job at an advertising firm since
that was her current employer. He continued reading. Her annual income, images of the townhouse she was renting along with the monthly payment. Hank blinked. Blinked again. He even huffed out loud. Phoebe seemed to be living well above her means, her credit cards were maxed out, but flipping the sheet he found another eight by ten image but this one was only of Phoebe dressed in a cream-colored business suit. She looked good… happy. Hank closed the folder and let all of it settle. He didn’t feel a thing. Maybe she wanted to get shot of this guy and she used him as the downfall. And with that thought, Hank opened the bottom draw of his desk and tossed the folder into it.
* * *
As soon as Arissa dropped her bag in the hall and locked her front door, she leaned back against it and took her first deep breath in four days. She loved Danielle. Part of Southern Charm’s success was because of her artistic eye, but that being said she was such a temperamental artist. Her attention to detail made a normal person’s eyes cross, but Arissa couldn’t deny the shots that Dmitri caught…the spread was going to be one of their best.
She moved from the door, kicking off her shoes as she went. Flicking on the light in the kitchen, she walked to the refrigerator, yanked it open. The day Dmitri had called had been shopping day so there was very little in her fridge. She wasn’t that hungry anyway, but she did reach for one of the beers Hank had brought over that first day. Smiling at the memory, she popped off the top and took a long drink. She never called him, not for a lack of wanting to, she just never got a free moment. She was tempted to call him now, but considering she’d only had about eight hours of sleep in the last four days, that wasn’t a great plan. Tomorrow morning, she’d stop by the station. Her body warmed at the thought of seeing him. She’d missed him, and when she did sleep, he starred in her dreams. Even exhausted, her body reacted to those dreams as chills moved down her spine and an ache formed between her legs.
She dropped down on her couch, took another long pull from her beer before placing it on the coffee table. Reaching for the remote, she flipped on the television. She only meant to close her eyes for a second, indulging in thoughts of Hank, but she didn’t stir again until the morning sun came streaming through the front windows.
* * *
Arissa hurriedly dressed, not even grabbing a cup of coffee. She wanted to see Hank, her heart pounding with excitement as she locked up her house and sprinted to her car. It had been too long.
Just as she reached her car, she heard. “Hey!”
She twisted her head to see Maureen strolling across the street wearing a white nightgown and matching robe that only reached her thighs. Arissa looked down at the white-heeled slippers and grinned. The look was so Maureen.
Arissa greeted her when she said, “It should be a crime for someone to look that good first thing in the morning.”
Maureen flashed her smile. “You missed knitting night. Everything okay?”
Knitting night. She’d forgotten all about it. Arissa pulled open her car door and dropped her purse on the driver’s seat. “Sorry, work emergency. I should have called.”
Maureen studied her for a few seconds before she said, “We aren’t that formal. We figured something came up. Since you’re back, the emergency is handled?”
“Yes. My stager is an artist, but she’s also a temperamental one. In this case, it worked because the spread is one of our best.”
Maureen didn’t answer with words, just stared before she asked, “Where are you off to in such a hurry.” The little smile suggested she knew exactly where Arissa was heading.
Arissa thought about evading, even lying, but it was a small town. Maureen would know before she finished her morning coffee where Arissa was going.
“I’m going to see the sheriff.”
Maureen leaned against Arissa’s car, and didn’t hide the grin when she asked, “Another lake?”
“No.”
Maureen glanced at her empty wrist and asked, “At this early hour?” She stepped back, lifted her hand. “No need to explain.” She took another step, “But the ladies and I will need a full report later.”
“I’m not getting out of that, am I?” Arissa asked.
“No,” Maureen said then turned for her house, lifting her hand over her head and wiggling her fingers. “Give the sheriff my best.”
Arissa laughed before she climbed into her car. She drove a bit like Hyacinth getting to the station. It was early, but she hoped not too early. She hadn’t experienced butterflies like the ones going off in her stomach in a very long time. Parking, she practically jumped from the car. Yanking open the station house door, it wasn’t Jo who greeted her. A man sat at her desk, dressed in the Summerville uniform. His head lifted when she entered.
“Can I help you?”
It was only then, standing in the station house that she allowed herself to acknowledge her actions were going to stir rumors, but at that moment she didn’t care. “I’d like to see the sheriff.”
The man leaned back in his chair, his eyes never left her, as a grin curved his mouth on one side. “You must be the flood victim,” he said then stood, walking around the desk. He held out his hand. “I’m Mike.”
Arissa took it. “Arissa.”
He held her hand a beat longer than was polite, while he studied her like he could read her mind. Releasing her hand, he said, “He’s not in. Had some trouble up at Canyon Creek. I suspect he’ll be there for a while. Is there something I can help you with?”
The adrenaline Arissa had been running on vaporized. She was tempted to drive up to Canyon Creek, but Hank was working…talk about stirring the rumor mill, showing up to a crime scene to talk to the sheriff, or rather with how she was feeling, jumping the sheriff was more like it.
She realized Mike was waiting to assist her. “Thank you, but I’ll wait to talk with the sheriff.”
“Did Billie fix the plumbing?”
“He did.”
Mike chuckled. “Getting him to do the work is a challenge, but he’s good when he puts the darts down.”
That comment had Arissa commenting almost absently. “I never knew people took darts so seriously.”
Mike stood a bit taller. Pride moving over his expression. “It’s our NASCAR.”
That was how Jo had described it too. “I’ve only played a few times, but I am looking forward to the game tonight.” She was more excited to see Hank, but she kept that to herself.
The phone rang. “One sec,” Mike said, and hurried to answer it. It wasn’t an emergency when he laughed out loud. “Morning to you too. No worries. I can manage until you get here. Talking to Arissa.”
Mike held the phone from his ear. Arissa could hear Jo from where she stood.
“Not so loud,” Mike shouted back. “Yeah, I’ll tell her. Okay. See you soon.”
Mike dropped the phone, shook his head. “Damn, my ear is ringing.” Mike chuckled. “Uncanny. It’s like she’s got eyes and ears everywhere. Jo said to meet her here at six thirty for the game.”
“I’ll be here.” The phone rang again. Arissa started for the door. “It was nice meeting you, Mike.”
He reached for the phone but didn’t lift it. “Nice meeting you. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Tonight,” Arissa said, then walked out to Mike saying, “Summerville PD. How can I help you?”
* * *
Why kids insisted on taking their four wheelers to Canyon Creek he didn’t know. The old quarry wasn’t safe. Kevin and Scott were lucky, only a few cuts and bruises. It could have been a hell of a lot worse.
On his way back to the station, he took a detour. She was back. She’d stopped to see him before she left but he hadn’t heard from her since. He thought to wait for her to come to him, but fuck he wanted to see her. He knew driving by her house was going to stir shit, Maureen likely had her fucking face pressed up against the glass watching and waiting. He didn
’t give a fuck, but reaching her street, her driveway was empty. Fuck. He could wait for her, but parking in front of her house would only add fuel to the rumor fire. He drove past. Where the hell was she at this hour? By the time he reached the station, he was in a foul mood. Another headache was brewing. Mike greeted him when he entered. He replied with a low growl.
“That good a morning, huh?” Mike teased.
“We’re banning all four wheelers,” Hank hissed. It wasn’t the situation earlier that put him in a bad mood, but Mike didn’t need the details.
Mike sat back in his chair and grinned. “I’ll get on writing up that ordinance.”
“No,” Hank said, moving to the coffee pot.
“You had a visitor earlier,” Mike said as he stood, coming around the desk.
Hank stopped walking, and looked back at Mike. Waiting. When Mike just continued to stare, Hank barked, “Who?”
Mike intentionally waited a beat before he said, “Arissa Haywood. The rumors about her are spot on. A looker, that one.”
Hank curled his hands but kept his tone even. “What’d she want?”
“To talk to you. I offered my assistance, but she wanted you.”
Mike’s choice of words had Hank feeling primal because he wanted her too.
“She’ll be at the game tonight. She’s going with Jo.”
