Manhunting in Mississippi

by Stephanie Bond

  His stomach rumbling, Ian swapped his suit slacks for pressed chinos and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, making a mental note to purchase some casual clothing. Then he pointed his car in the direction of downtown Mudville, hoping the daylight would reveal something more appealing than he’d seen last night on his late drive into town. He circled the downtown area, aware that his unfamiliar car turned heads. To his gratification, the light of day unveiled a quaint little town, unbelievably busy with bustling pedestrians and older cars.

  Oh, sure, the aged buildings could use a coat of paint, but he found the flower boxes and ornamental concrete curlicues charming in a Mark Twain kind of way. He pushed down the thought that becoming familiar with the town would give him insight into the paradoxical resident, Ms. Piper Shepherd.

  When he drove by the city municipal building, he stopped on a whim and procured a map of the area. Lunch forgotten, Ian spent the rest of the afternoon driving around the outskirts of the city limits, in and out of pseudo-subdivisions and family neighborhoods. The houses were neat and attractive, and the lawns generous. And the clotheslines—he loved seeing clotheslines full of sheets and jeans and baby clothes, a novelty to a man who had lived in high-rise apartment buildings for the last fifteen years.

  Caught up in the heady feel of the countryside, he tuned in to a local radio station and caught a couple hours’ worth of Little League scores, livestock reports and elementary-school 4-H speeches. Around four o’clock he stopped at a Mom-and-Pop gas station in the middle of nowhere, bought a homemade ham-and-cheese sandwich and an ice-cold root beer, and accepted the elderly owner’s invitation to “sit a spell” on the porch. During the next hour, two cars and three riders on horseback kicked up dust on the narrow road in front of the store as Ian extracted Mudville’s history from wrinkly Zeke Samuels.

  In addition to Blythe Industries, a paper-box manufacturer and a sewing factory provided the majority of jobs for the area. Surprisingly, next to tobacco, the most lucrative crop seemed to be farm-raised catfish. The fish farms fed several lakes in the area, which pumped lots of tourist dollars into the town.

  Thinking he might indulge in a day of fishing before returning home, Ian asked for directions and set off toward the nearest lake. A germ of an idea took root when he drove up on a crowded parking lot full of cars with out-of-town license plates. After picking up a brochure, he drove around the area, keeping an eye open for choice lots and empty buildings or houses. He stopped occasionally to get his bearings and to scribble a few notes, the wheels in his head turning.

  Just after five o’clock he happened upon a grand limestone house set in a white-fenced clearing, framed with towering evergreens. His heart pounded as he stepped from his car and it tripped double time when he spied the For Sale sign. There were no cars around, but he walked up on the porch and rang the doorbell several times. When no one answered, he shielded his eyes and peered through a naked window. Antique furniture lined the walls, carpets stood rolled on end, packing boxes littered the floor. Tall ceilings, hardwood floors and a massive fireplace—the place was amazing.

  Ian jogged back to the car, pulled his cellular phone from the glove compartment and punched in a number. “Ben? It’s Ian—you’re not going to believe this house I found…”

  “YOU LOOK like you’re on the injured list, Piper.” Pharmacy clerk Gary Purdue squinted down at her from behind the reading-glasses display. A former high school basketball star, Gary had warmed the bench in college while he failed four years of pharmaceutical studies, then returned to Mudville to work in his father’s drugstore and coach peewee baseball. He reminded Piper of a celery stick and he always spoke in sports terms.

  “Thanks, Gary.” Her face felt puffy, her tongue tasted thick and she yearned to tear off her clothes and claw at her itchy skin. “I need an antihistamine, pronto.”

  He grinned and tucked a chin-length strand of blond hair behind his ear. “Did someone sneak chocolate into a recipe when you weren’t looking?”

  “Yeah—me.”

  A frown made his face seem longer and thinner. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope. I’ve got a customer who likes cocoa, and I aim to please.”

  “You’re a real team player, Piper.”

  She gave him a tight, itchy smile. “Rah, rah.”

  He walked around the front of the counter and chose two packages of pills from a shelf. “Janet Browning couldn’t help you, huh?”

  “The infirmary was already closed.” She grinned sheepishly and hiked up her right jeans leg to reveal her wrapped ankle. “And I probably wore out my welcome there this morning. Got anything for the pain?”

  Gary’s eyes widened in alarm. “Time out!” He propelled Piper back into one of the “waiting” chairs and knelt in front of her.

  “Gary—”

  “Relax, Piper, I was almost a doctor.”

  She pressed her lips together and permitted him to examine her ankle as if he knew what he was doing.

  “Looks like a bad, bad fracture,” he announced.

  “It’s a sprain.”

  “Or a sprain,” he agreed quickly, nodding. He stood abruptly and disappeared behind the dispensing counter where his father’s eyes and balding head were barely visible. Mr. Purdue waved, and she waved back.

  Piper leaned back into the chair and scratched her forearms furiously, wondering what would happen next. She felt bumpy and raw.

  Gary sprang back into the room holding a paper cup of water. He handed her the cup and three pills. “Dad says take the pink ones for your allergic reaction, and the other one for your ankle.”

  Piper swallowed the pills in one gulp and pushed herself to her feet. “Thanks.”

  “Of course, you’re not supposed to drive after you take the painkiller.”

  She stopped and stared at Gary. “Now you’re kidding, right?”

  “’Fraid not. Have you eaten?”

  “No.”

  He looked at her considering. “It’ll hit you in about fifteen minutes, thirty max.”

  Piper half closed her puffy eyes in frustration, fighting the urge to cry. She waved toward the over-the-counter allergy medicine. “Can you ring me up?”

  Gary suddenly seemed fascinated with his size fifteen high-top sneakers. “If you can stick around for a few minutes while I restock the Odor Eaters, I’ll be glad to drive you home.” He glanced up and smiled shyly, triggering a memory of Janet saying that Gary and his longtime girlfriend had recently split up. He fidgeted. “Honest, Piper, you shouldn’t be behind the wheel after taking that medication.”

  Piper’s mind raced as she struggled for a graceful way to get out of the situation.

  “Thanks, pal, but the lady already has a ride home.”

  Piper turned to see Ian Bentley standing at the end of the aisle, dressed country-club casual and holding a tube of toothpaste. He smiled at her, showing off his pearly whites.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Always carry protection—such as hair spray or a nail file—in case a suitor makes untoward advances.

  GARY NARROWED his eyes at Ian. “Piper, do you know this guy?”

  Completely dismayed at the lifting of her heart, Piper nodded. “He’s a…a business associate of mine.” Ian Bentley had invaded her thoughts so thoroughly since he left, her afternoon performance in the lab had been a comedy of errors. She couldn’t remember when she’d tossed out more unusable batches.

  Ian walked up to the counter, handed his purchase to Gary and withdrew his wallet. “I’m headed your way,” he said, glancing at Piper. “I’d be glad to drop you off.”

  Since she was relatively sure he was lying, and since the idea sounded so appealing, Piper felt compelled to decline. “I don’t think—”

  “It’s the least I can do to make up for this morning.” He smiled, and her resistance began to crumble. Acutely aware of Gary watching them, Piper wet her lips. “But my van—”

  “I’ll drop it off when Dad and I close up,” Gary of
fered eagerly, then slid his gaze back to Ian and lifted his chin. “That way I can check on Piper when I leave the keys.”

  “Problem solved,” Ian agreed cheerfully, lifting his palms.

  Since the arrangement seemed safely unromantic, and too tired, itchy and throbbing to argue, Piper relented with a nod. After all, it wasn’t like either man was going to come on to her the way she looked now. She thanked Gary and handed over her keys. Stifling the urge to scratch her puffy face, she quickly paid for the antihistamine and preceded Ian out of the store.

  “What happened to you?” he asked as she walked under his arm out the front door of the pharmacy. At nearly six-thirty, the temperature still hovered in the low nineties, and the humidity hung unrelenting.

  Piper smirked. “I’m accident prone, remember?”

  He frowned, peering at her face. Feeling a bit light-headed, Piper wondered how much more splotchy she’d become, then realized she was getting used to looking bad in front of Ian Bentley—not that it mattered.

  Without stopping, he clasped her wrist and turned over her arm, revealing an expanse of red, bumpy skin. His touch heightened the tingly sensation skittering across her tender flesh. “You didn’t get a rash from falling in the rain in the parking lot.”

  “It’s just allergies,” she said, pulling away her arm for a good scratch. “I’ll be fine by morning.” Despite the heat, Ian looked terrific in a long-sleeve shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and pleated khaki chinos.

  She stopped and waited while he unlocked the passenger-side door of his rental car, setting into motion the muscles in his forearm. He was left-handed, she noticed. His wedding band glinted in the ebbing sunlight, the diamonds winking a reminder of his status. Her heart fell into an erratic rhythm. When he opened the door, she hesitated. “I’m counting on the fact that you’re not a serial killer.”

  He snapped his fingers. “I knew there was something I left out of my introduction.”

  “I’m usually more careful than this,” she explained lamely as she lowered herself into the leather seat.

  Ian gave her a wry smile. “I’ll bet you don’t even lock your front door.” He closed the door, and Piper watched him as he circled in front of the car. The man was absolutely too sure of himself.

  “I’ll have you know,” she said when he opened the door and swung into his own seat, “that the front door to my house is safely secured.” Then she smiled sheepishly. “It’s the back door I leave unlocked.”

  The rumble of his laughter filled the interior of the car. “I’ll file away that information for future reference,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

  His tone was teasing, but Piper gripped her paper bag of drugs tighter in her lap. The air hummed with tension, as if she didn’t already feel prickly enough.

  He started the engine. “Have you had dinner?”

  “Uh, no. I was going to hit the drive-through on the way home.”

  “Which drive-through?”

  She grinned and pointed left. “The drive-through.”

  Ian chuckled, then pulled onto Main Street and followed her directions the short distance to the fast-food restaurant. “Think I’ll get a bite myself,” he said.

  “Where are you staying?”

  “Little motel on the edge of town. Baker’s?”

  “Baxter’s.”

  He nodded. “Right.”

  “Not exactly the Holiday Inn,” she observed.

  Ian shrugged. “Clean sheets, good mattress, nice stationery.”

  She’d expected him to put down the little motor inn, to put down the whole town. Piper almost hoped he would so she could dislike him. Then she stopped—since when had snobs become more unlikable than flirtatious married men? She shook her head to clear it and blamed her mental lapse on the medicine she felt filtering through her body like cool menthol. Food would slow down the absorption of the painkiller—not a bad idea at this point, despite her aching ankle.

  He rolled down the window and ordered two burgers, fries and drinks, refusing her offer to pay, but handing her the bags of food to plunder while the cashier made change.

  Still spoiling for an argument, she said, “I can’t believe a big-city restaurateur is actually eating fast food.”

  Unfazed, he lifted himself out of the seat slightly to return his wallet to his back pocket. “Don’t forget, I own a few fast-food franchises myself.”

  A few dozen, she corrected silently. Piper dragged her attention away from the muscles flexing beneath the fabric of his pants. “I know, but I guess I never thought you’d actually eat at one of them.”

  He settled back into the seat and gave her a deadly grin. “You’ve been thinking about me?”

  Red flags sprang up behind her eyelids. Sirens sounded in her ears. Determined to keep her cool, Piper pursed her lips and shoved a burger into his hand. “Instead of putting words in my mouth, how about putting this in yours?”

  He winked good-naturedly and unwrapped his burger with one hand while steering with the other. “Where to?”

  “I thought you were headed my way,” she reminded him, placing an order of French fries within reach and settling their drinks into cup holders.

  One side of his mouth jerked upward. “I am—as soon as you tell me which way that is.”

  Piper had to smile since he’d spared her from Gary Purdue’s good intentions. “Left at the light, past the tire center, right at Ms. Gardner’s house, right again at the school-bus turnaround—”

  “Um, perhaps you can tell me as we go along,” he cut in with a laugh. Ian took a sizable bite out of his burger, then pulled onto Main Street behind an old pickup truck with a bed full of hay and a half-dozen children. “Good burger,” he said thickly.

  She nodded slowly and exhaled in relief—disaster diverted. He felt the chemistry between them, too, but she had ultimate control, she kept telling herself. No matter how much he made her brain and body short-circuit, and no matter how much she needed that bonus, she would not—repeat, would not—become involved with a married man.

  Glancing at his profile out of the corner of her eye, she bit into her burger with a vengeance, then stared straight ahead.

  Lined up with their backs against the truck cab, the kids were all redheaded and obviously related. They grinned at Piper and Ian, then waved shyly. Her ill mood dissolved like sugar in water.

  “Looks like a great place to raise kids,” Ian observed.

  Piper noticed he was thumbing his wedding ring while they waited for the light to turn. Did he have children? Probably, she thought, grabbing a fry.

  “I suppose,” she mumbled, feeling a little queasy. She always ate too fast—a bad habit developed in the lab.

  “Did you grow up here?”

  She shook her head as they began moving again. “No—I grew up in Westin, a few hours north. But I spent summers here with my grandmother, so I’m considered a native.”

  “Are your parents still in Westin?”

  Piper sucked cola through a straw, then delivered her stock answer. “I don’t have a father, but my mother lives near there.” Or wherever her current boyfriend wants to lie down.

  “And your grandmother?”

  Just the thought of Gran lifted Piper’s spirits. “She’s still in Mudville.” Gran would like Ian, Piper was sure. Oh, except for one little detail…

  “You must be close to her.”

  “She’s the reason I’m here,” Piper admitted.

  “Ah,” he said, nodding. “The answer to the riddle.”

  “What riddle?”

  He glanced over and made a clicking sound with his cheek. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

  Certainly not the most breathtaking compliment she’d received, but his words affected her nonetheless. “Making desserts for you,” she said, striving to keep the conversation light.

  “Touché.”

  She busied herself by taking another fry. “Besides, Mudville isn’t that bad.” Unless
you’re looking for a man.

  “Oh, I know—I’ve been exploring.”

  She raised her arm and indicated where he should turn. “And did you find us to your liking?”

  He made the turn, then locked gazes with her. “Let’s just say I’ve been pleasantly surprised by my discoveries.”

  Piper glanced back to the road and pressed a finger against her temple, as if she could reorder the thoughts being processed inside. The sexual draw coming from Ian across the console resounded almost tangibly. His faded aftershave tickled her allergy-stricken nose—she was quite sure an untimely sneeze would be forthcoming. A five o’clock shadow darkened his square jaw. The temperature of her crawling skin rose with every chest-expanding breath he took. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

  “Feeling better?” he asked, lifting his cup for a drink.

  “Yeah,” she lied. “The food helped.” Piper took another bite, forcing herself to chew slowly and breathe deeply. Hormones aside, she still had to win this man’s business.

  Then a terrible thought occurred to her. Did Ian Bentley make a habit of traveling around, using his leverage as a powerful customer to engage in extramarital affairs? Did he expect her to sleep with him to get his business?

  “You look like you’re in pain.”

  She swung her head to the side to look at him, and managed a shaky smile. “Oh, well, I guess I’m tired.”

  “If your pharmacy buddy is correct, you shouldn’t have any problem going to sleep.” He wadded up his burger wrapper.

  Piper held open one of the bags for him to deposit the trash. She definitely felt woozy.

  “He must be a good friend of yours,” he remarked.

  “Who, Gary? I’ve known him for years.”

  “He knows where you live.”

  Was he fishing? Piper kept her gaze riveted on the road. “Turn here. Everyone knows where everyone lives in Mudville.”