The mayor was into some dirty stuff. She scanned the ballistics report Grant had given her on Thursday one more time. There wasn’t much to go on. The gun had been unregistered, serial numbers scratched off. The shooter wasn’t credible, but definitely guilty. His prints were all over the weapon.
Had Grant closed the case? She should’ve asked. At least she had the make of the gun. It wouldn’t hurt to look into other cases involving similar weapon and ammunition.
Past the mayor’s cheating on his wife and making his speeding tickets mysteriously disappear, there were other unanswered questions. The checking account with large, unexplained balances. The mayor’s unaccounted-for absences. Although Mrs. Owens had hired her to get proof of adultery, these questions prompted Rachel to investigate the mayor of Manatee Bay.
Not only questions, but a need for justice also led her down this path. Despite Maggie’s betrayal, Rachel couldn’t bear to see the pain draining away her sister’s once wild joy in living.
She pulled up the mayor’s file. Of course, she hadn’t told Mrs. Owens about his secret account. She’d discovered it accidentally while chasing around a check he’d written to buy his mistress of the week diamonds.
Loser.
If only she had that flash drive. Instead of drooling over Grant she should’ve downloaded the files while she had the chance. She’d scoured the woods, her house, even the police station parking lot for the drive and come up with nothing. The S file contained something concrete, something that would send Owens to jail. She just knew it. Pictures, contracts. The possibilities were endless.
And now it was gone.
Sighing, she clicked the print button, listening to the whir of the printer as it spit pages out. She’d look over his paperwork and then file it away in her safe, along with Mrs. Owens’ house key.
Speaking of, Mrs. Owens hadn’t been in touch. She grabbed her iPhone and dialed the mayor’s wife. The call went straight to voicemail.
Weird.
Gathering the sheaves of evidence together, she marched to her bathroom and retrieved her safe from its secret place. Keeping multiple sets of files made things more secure. Not that she had a ton of evidence. Just enough to make her want to dig up more.
At the very least, the mayor was an adulterer. It galled her that she’d voted for the man. She popped open the safe, slid the papers in, closed the safe, and returned it to the hidden hole in the wall. Patting the barely discernible crack where the panel closed, she smiled, stood and went back to her desk.
The phone rang close to noon, just as she was finishing up some paperwork on the Caldwell case.
“McCormick Investigations,” she said, tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear so she could keep working.
“Hey Rachel, it’s Annette Baker. Look, were you planning to come to Mary Jane’s renewal vows?” Annette’s voice quavered with uncertainty.
Rachel bit back her annoyance. Poor Annette quaked in her boots around her, as if she realized Rachel knew about the gambling addiction. That had been a few investigations back. Apparently Annette’s husband had confronted her and now Annette sounded like she lived in fear of discovery.
Rachel glanced at the time on her iPhone. “When is the ceremony?”
“Today, in an hour.”
She groaned, then tried to mask the sound by clearing her throat. “At the Presbyterian church?”
“Yes. You never RSVP’d.” Timid accusation barely strengthened Annette’s voice.
“Well, I’ll be at the service. Probably not at the reception though, so don’t worry about changing the food list.”
“I won’t.”
Rachel hung up and shoved away from her desk. Weddings weren’t her thing, but she’d promised Mary Jane she’d go. At least she’d worn her powder blue suit today. Not her favorite, but suitable for a sham wedding.
She groaned again. If Annette weren’t so anal then she could have skipped out of this easily. Now the office would need to be closed and she’d work out of her home this afternoon. No sense in wasting gas coming back to Orlando.
By the time she dragged herself into the church located on the outskirts of Manatee Bay, she was starving and grumpy. Though the service hadn’t started yet, the pews were packed.
Like her church, this one had been built at the turn of the twentieth century. The pews were oak-hewn and polished to a shine. Stained glass windows softened the spring sun into warm rays that stroked lavender clad pews with delicate fingers.
The ambiance relaxed her, even if the heavy scent of roses made her eyes water. She slid into a back pew, nodding to several people she knew, and waited for the service to start.
Hopefully, the thing would last less than twenty minutes. Why would Mary Jane spend the money on something so silly, so pointless?
Rachel had warned Mary Jane months ago that this wouldn’t change a man. But the former valedictorian seemed to lack common sense, despite her high IQ.
Oh, well. She glanced at her watch and sighed. As soon as this ended, she’d scoot. No sense in watching two people try to pretend their marriage could survive betrayal.
***
Grant pulled at the tie around his neck. He couldn’t stand the thing but suffered for David’s sake. He studied his friend, who was busy straightening his own tux. They stood in a tiny office that had been converted to a faux dressing room.
“You sure you want to stay married to her?”
David’s gaze shot up to Grant. He nodded, giving the tie one, final tug. “I’m just glad she still wants to be with me.”
“Are you done messing around?” Grant shrugged into his jacket.
David turned slowly, measured Grant. “I hope so. Do you think I can stop?”
“Can’t say I see it too often.” He dealt with the same people over and over. Few ever changed. Maybe with God’s help, a man could change.
“I want to be done. I think that counts for something.” David looked a little pale.
“I hope so.” Maybe he should have had this talk with his former drinking buddy before the wedding, but since getting saved he’d been staying away from the bars. He smoothed his hands over his chin. “You know, you might want to change. It won’t mean she will.”
David’s Adam’s apple jerked. Everyone knew Mary Jane nagged him. Word spread years ago that she could scream louder than a banshee. From the look on David’s face, Grant guessed memories were pounding through his skull.
Grant grimaced. He patted David’s crisp jacket. “Don’t worry, man. Love her more than yourself. That’ll go a long way.”
David shot him a strange look. For a second he reminded Grant of Mary Jane, the way she screwed her lips together and pulled her eyebrows down.
“What?” Grant grinned, thinking maybe it was a good thing they were patching their marriage up.
“Why haven’t you been down to Wiley’s for a beer?”
“Been going to church on Sunday mornings.” A casual answer for such a life-changing decision.
“Yeah, right.” David laughed and punched him lightly on the shoulder. “You been working extra shifts?”
“No.” Grant coughed. “Really, I've been busy with church stuff.”
David squinted at him. “You?”
He nodded. Was it that hard to believe?
“You’re the biggest atheist in Manatee Bay.”
“I wasn’t an atheist.”
“Sure, man. Whatever.” David turned away. Strains of piano could be heard in the sanctuary, only feet from the small room where they’d changed. “It’s time to go. Just don’t push your God stuff on me.”
Grant forced a strained chuckle. “No problem.”
They headed out to the sanctuary, joining the rest of David’s groomsmen. This wedding struck him as incongruous. Five years ago he’d walked the same aisle believing David and Mary Jane would make their marriage work. But now he saw the awkwardness of the situation in the shuffling feet of the groomsmen, displaying the same disbelief that coursed through him.
<
br /> Mary Jane had been valedictorian of their class. David was a neurosurgeon who commuted to Orlando for work. Two smart people who couldn’t make a marriage successful.
It bugged him. He’d never thought much of marriage until he’d seen the way Alec and Katrina looked at each other. Monogamy and true love wasn’t something he’d grown up with, but their love revived a part of him he’d thought long dead. Their flame lit hope inside of him.
The sanctuary doors slid open and music filled the entrance where he stood. A petite brunette came and took his arm and they lined up behind the others. He’d just stepped into the sanctuary when he saw a familiar cascade of red curls. For a moment, his step faltered.
Straightening his shoulders, he evened his stride. Step by step, couple by couple, they marched down the aisle.
When he passed Rachel, he snuck a look at her face and something clenched in his chest, an emotion he couldn’t name.
She didn’t see him. Her eyes focused to the front of the room. She sat alone, her lovely, straight nose loudly proclaiming to anyone who dared to look that she didn’t care. Grant tightened his grip on the bridesmaid next to him and forced himself to look away. They parted ways at the altar and he went to stand in his position.
He couldn’t focus on the service, couldn’t enjoy the soft strains of classical music. Its cadence slid past him. It was Rachel who captured his attention, rather than the bride and groom. She sat toward the back, a beacon of loneliness. He’d never seen that about her. Why? Maybe he hadn’t looked hard enough, but he saw it now. The purse of her soft lips, the starch of her posture. A woman who tried to be an island.
Ask her again.
A silent whisper in his soul. He swallowed tightly. Are you sure, God?
Ask.
Grant took a deep breath and studied Rachel. He wouldn’t deny the attraction he felt for her. If God was giving the go-ahead, Grant would pursue her just like King David pursued his family after they’d been kidnapped by the Amalekites.
Rachel’s gaze met his, and in the small sanctuary he thought he saw a flicker of pain shadow those emerald irises before they tightened into slits.
Grinning, Grant thumbed the pockets of his pants. Let her get riled up. He was in this to win it.
He winked at her.
***
As soon as the wedding party exited the sanctuary, Rachel shot up and squeezed into the aisle. She needed to get out of here.
Grant had winked at her.
Winked.
It looked like Mr. Smooth intended to pull out the charm. And yet Thursday, he’d been annoyed with her. Distant. Didn’t he realize she couldn’t be captivated by something she didn’t trust? Something so unreliable as attraction? She weaved around a man paused in the aisle talking to a bridesmaid and beelined for the sanctuary doors.
Annette stepped in front of her. Blonde hair sleek and fashionable, it matched her fake smile. “Rachel,” she said in dulcet tones. “I need some help.”
Her fingers closed around Rachel’s wrist. “Some bratty kids popped the balloons.” She pulled Rachel into a pew. “Everyone’s busy with pictures. Can you help blow up some more?”
Rachel disentangled her arm from Annette’s clasp. “I’m sure you can find someone else.”
“But you’re here.” Annette smoothed her silk top.
Normally Rachel would say no, but then she caught sight of Grant striding toward her, a stubborn jut to his chin. Oh, no. A wedding was not the place to spurn his amorous intentions.
She grabbed Annette’s shoulder and pushed her out of the pew. “I’ll do it.”
They escaped the sanctuary before Grant could cut through the throng of people. Annette led her down a darkened hallway and opened a door to the left, revealing a tiny office that smelled strongly of cologne.
“The balloons are there.” Annette pointed to a chair covered with clothes, then turned and left.
Rachel stifled her sigh. How had she gotten into this? Oh, yeah. Running from Grant. She sifted through the unfolded pile of clothes and pulled out a baggie of royal purple and silver balloons. About fifteen total. This wouldn’t take long.
First, she folded faded jeans. Then a Salt Life t-shirt, which obviously belonged to someone who liked to fish. The monster grouper on the back of the shirt sneered at her. She placed the clothing in a neat little pile beside the folding chair.
Watching David and Mary Jane had been more depressing than she’d expected. Knowing they probably wouldn’t make it stifled hope. She shook her head. Sticking a balloon to her lips, she blew it up then snapped it into a knot. One down, fourteen to go. After she finished she’d go home, maybe eat some ice cream.
If there was any left. She picked up a silver balloon and fitted it to her lips. The carton had felt suspiciously light this morning when she’d battled the urge for a few bites. Maggie must have cleaned it out last night. The only cleaning she’d done so far.
Rachel tied her balloon and put it next to the other one. What was she going to do about Maggie? Getting justice for her by exposing the mayor wouldn’t bring back Maggie’s joy. It wouldn’t take the heartbreak she saw thinning Maggie’s lips, stooping her back.
And it certainly wouldn’t fix Rachel’s own unhappiness. After Scott slept with Maggie, Rachel had cut herself off from her sister. Now she didn’t know how to reconnect. How to fix the resentment lodged deep inside.
She’d almost finished with the balloons when a flutter of air brushed past her. Grant stepped inside the room, a crooked smile curving his lips. He shut the door behind him. “Need help?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
She shrugged, trying to hide the traitorous skip of her pulse. “I’m almost done. Do you need something?”
“Just my clothes.” He pointed to the pile she’d folded and set on the floor.
She watched him come over and pick them up. “I didn’t realize you were a friend of the groom’s.”
“I was in his last wedding.” His eyebrows drew together. “I mean the first one.”
“I know what you meant.” She hesitated, wondering what had happened Thursday after she left the station. If he thought of that encounter now. “You survived Ms. Riccio,” she tried to say off-handedly.
“She’s not so bad.”
Rachel grunted. “Could’ve fooled me.”
“She’s defensive about that case. You get on her bad side.”
“I noticed.”
Grant grinned at her, cheek dimpling.
Rachel couldn’t help but return the smile. His hair had gotten disheveled somehow, probably from some flirt’s fingers, but she liked how it curled over his forehead. A flash of him, joking around at dinner, sparked through her.
It was all those dinners Katrina had begged her to go on that ruined Rachel’s pact to not fall for charmers. Being Alec’s friend, Grant had been there most of the time, telling stories, laughing.
Charming people.
He was generous and kind. Loyal to Alec and their city. He’d been the only policeman who actually cared when Lee was brought in on rape charges, though in the end, even he’d given up fighting for the truth.
Grant hunkered down beside her and grabbed a balloon. “You’re almost done but I can still help.”
She picked up another balloon, not willing to argue. “It was nice of you to agree to be in this wedding.”
His aftershave settled between them, warm and slightly exotic. No Big Red today. “Yeah, well, David begged me. It’s hard to resist him when he gets on a roll.”
“You’re telling me,” she said, thinking of how easily he’d convinced Mary Jane to stay.
“Hope they make it this time.”
“Me, too.” He must have heard the doubt in her voice because his brow arched but he didn’t say anything until his balloon was blown and tied closed.
Then he propped his elbows on his knees and stared at her. She finished blowing up her balloon, trying to ignore the intensity of his gaze.
No such luck. She
faced him. “What?”
“You don’t believe a man can change.”
It took her a second to formulate an answer. She’d never noticed how long his eyelashes were, though the blue in his eyes had always reminded her of summer in the Florida Keys. She looked away. “I know people can change. Most don’t.”
“What happened to you? In school you were confident and kind. Now you’re—”
“Bitter?”
“I was going to say sad.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his head cock to the side.
“I’m not sad.” She wet her lips, screwing up the courage to look at him again. “Things happened. Forgiveness isn’t my strong point.” She chuckled, then grimaced at the emptiness of it in the little room.
“Brutally honest. I didn’t realize until recently that it was a quality of yours.”
He was looking at her with compassion in his eyes, admiration in his voice. That spot in her chest, the one she usually tried to ignore, warmed.
“Not many people consider it a quality.”
“Trust me, liars are a penny a dozen. But you . . .” He shifted closer to her. “Why won’t you go out to eat with me?”
“You’re a player, Grant.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, the whole city knows it.” She saw the way his eyes shadowed and she flinched. There was more to him than that. She’d seen his face change when no one was looking. It drew down, hardened into something painful to look at. Something vulnerable. Despite his crooked grin, there were secrets in him that he tried desperately to hide. But it didn’t change the fact that women were like clothes to him.
“The town is wrong. The women I date expect nothing more than a movie and dinner.”
She snorted. “Liz Moyer cried for a month when you didn’t call her back after your second date.”
“That was last year.”
“I know more stories.”
Because he looked so shocked, she rested a hand on his shoulder. “I know there’s more to you than fun and games, but I have a rule about not dating charmers.”
Light sparkled in his eyes, chasing the darkness away. “Are you admitting that I’m charming?”
“I guess.” She crinkled her face at him and picked up the last balloon.
Undercover Love (The Women of Manatee Bay, Book 2) Page 12
