Robin blushed, her face relaxed and happy. “You be careful, woman. I can make sure the girls cast a spell for you and Officer Dreamy.”
She straightened, striving for nonchalance. “There’s nothing there. He’s not interested.”
Robin snickered. “Right. His eyes are as glued to you as yours are to him.”
“You think so?” She hesitated to look Robin in the eye, not wanting the woman to read her interest, but she had to know if she was sincere.
Her new sister-in-law’s brown eyes were serious and steady. “He’s interested.”
Her stomach did a somersault and other parts of her body shouted for joy. She leaned and looked out the window. She watched the spot where he’d last been for a long moment, then looked at Robin who had a knowing sparkle in her eye.
“You’re sworn to secrecy.” She held out her little finger. “Pinkie swear.”
“Pinkie swear? Seriously?” Robin laughed, but held hers out. “I don’t think I’ve ever done this.”
She gripped Robin’s finger with hers. “This is serious. I do not want my grandmother getting wind of this.”
“Wind of what?”
She glared at her, releasing Robin’s pinkie. “I like him. I admit it.”
The rain began, not as a soft cascade, but as a hard pelting against the window. She gazed at the moisture clinging to the pane. She’d spent so many years hiding how she felt. Thrust into actively pursuing what she wanted knocked her off kilter. She would not tell Robin she loved him. “Liked” seemed a dangerous enough admission.
Robin did a little jig in the middle of the kitchen floor. “I knew it. What now?”
Meg cleared the nerves from her throat. “I have no idea.”
~~CHAPTER THREE~~
Bret fastened the duty belt around his waist and adjusted the fit. The creak of leather echoed in the empty locker room. The smell of pine cleaner didn’t mix well with the musty gym aroma of the small space. He slipped his gun from its holster to check the magazine. The routine soothed his agitation. After yesterday and another kiss from Meg, his libido and dreams were out of control. The only way to regain his self-discipline was to work hard and forget.
Meg seemed eager to prove something, either to herself or to him. But he was determined stay as far away from her as possible. No reason to tempt fate. He had strong reasons for avoiding relationships, the biggest being his mother. The thought of getting involved with someone like Meg made his stomach toss around like a mixer had run amok in his gut—even if her kisses left him burning for more. He blew out a breath and calmed himself with the familiar motions of checking his weapon.
Tom walked into the locker room dressed in workout clothes, carrying a gym bag and his uniform on a hanger in his hand. He stopped and sniffed the air.
“Mr. Brava just clean in here?”
Bret returned his weapon to his holster. “He did.”
“Smells like pine cleaner over dirty gym socks.”
Bret grinned. “Why do you call him Mr. Brava when everyone else calls him Jorge?”
Tom pulled open his locker and anchored the hanger over the edge of the door. “He was the custodian at the elementary school when I went there. It was what we were required to call him. Never bothered to break the habit.”
“That explains it.” Bret shut his locker. “Chief wants to see us.”
“I heard. Dana told me two seconds inside the door. Another robbery?”
“Tallied in at four for the weekend.”
Tom swore. “Four?”
Bret shared his frustrations. The robberies had started after Halloween last year and they had few clues other than a pretty strong hunch that it was high school kids. He sat down on the bench in front of the lockers. “Yeah, I think we’re going to regret the chief giving us this case. Happened out on Stuart Road this time. Three houses, one business. Mostly vandalism on the business—Carlsson’s car lot.”
Tom bent to unfasten the laces on his running shoes. “I know our working theory is that this is high school kids. The vandalism certainly fits. But I’ve never had a robbery situation with teenagers continue this long without some kind of stupid mistake that gives them away. That or some gossip.”
“I haven’t either. But all the victims have high school-age kids living at home. With the trashing they did of the kids’ bedrooms and the things they took, I think it’s the only logical conclusion.” Bret walked to the bulletin board to check the staff notices and lapsed into silence.
Tom dressed and put on his duty belt. “I wish we could identify the fingerprints we found at robbery five. We need to catch one of them to get information. I imagine that’s what the chief wants to talk about. I can’t believe this has gone on for four months. We’re up to fifteen robberies and can’t put a name on any of the culprits.”
Bret went to the door and held it open, waiting for Tom to check his gun and slide it into the holster. “That’s one of the reasons I did that drunk driving talk to the sociology class before Christmas. Wanted to get a feel for what’s going on at the high school and get a look at some of the kids.”
“I thought for sure that Benny Sanders was one of the ring leaders.” Tom shut his locker. “He’s been in so much trouble, he was an obvious choice.”
Bret glanced at his watch as they made their way toward the chief’s office. “Too bad he moved.”
“And the robberies continued. Plus Benny was never that smart. Too much ego mixed with volatile temper.” Tom stopped and pulled a file folder from a stack on his desk. “Let’s go see what the chief wants.”
The chief’s office was at the front of the building. Large windows overlooked Oak Street. Bright sunshine filtered through the trees along the curb. All the parking slots were full and the street hummed with traffic. The community hospital entrance sat directly across from the police department, giving a good view of the buzz of activity at the facility.
Bret halted in the hallway next to Tom, out of earshot. Chief Paul Hudson leaned against his desk, a phone propped against his ear. The former military police officer had been Chief of Police for Echo Falls for five years and had yet to lose his military bearing. His premature salt and pepper gray hair was cropped close to his head, his uniform pressed in crisp lines. His desk spilled over with paperwork. A jar of butterscotch candies sat on the corner. The man habitually sucked them to reinforce his recent attempt to quit smoking. A cup of coffee steamed near his elbow.
The phone rang in dispatch, breaking the silence of the unusually quiet morning. Several long moments passed. The chief agreed with whoever he was speaking to and finally hung up the phone.
“Come in. Take a seat. Let’s hash this out.” Chief Hudson seated himself behind the desk. “The Mayor is breathing down my neck.”
Tom snorted. “At least you don’t have to sit across the dinner table from her. She’s not happy about these robberies.”
“Neither am I.” Chief Hudson popped a butterscotch into his mouth, then sipped his coffee.
“Any details about the robberies this weekend?” Bret asked.
“Forensics will be in this afternoon, but the similarities to the others are obvious. All the homes had teenage occupants with trashed bedrooms. The car lot owner has a vandalized car with a shattered showroom window. That car was to be a birthday present to his teenage son.”
“We’re going to need a line into the high school.” Bret leaned forward in his chair. “We’ll need help to figure out the connection between the students.”
“We’ve taken a look at all that already. Nothing popped.” Tom leaned against the desk.
The chief took another large gulp of coffee. “Exactly why I’ve talked to the principal and obtained his permission for one of you to work with one of his teachers to see what you can come up with. Cara that’s you. You already established something with that talk you gave Mr. Spring’s class.”
Bret agreed. “When?”
“During lunch. See the principal. He’ll make arrangeme
nts for you to meet up with his choice of personnel to help you.”
“What about me?” Tom asked.
“Leg work. All the victims need to be interviewed and any forensic evidence followed up on. We’re short for a few days personnel-wise. Hallam’s out sick and Jurdy had to go to Albuquerque.” The chief grimaced. “Unfortunately, I need you both on patrol, too, so you’ll have to juggle.”
“Can do.” Bret rose from his seat.
Tom did, too. “No problem, sir.”
“Overtime is authorized by the mayor,” Chief Hudson said. “This thing has gone on long enough. Let’s find some answers.” The phone rang and the chief dismissed them with a flip of his hand.
Bret followed Tom into the hall. “I’ll catch up to you after I talk with the principal.”
“Hopefully, I’ll have all the victims interviewed by then and we can compare notes.” Tom led the way past the dispatching office and waved at Dana.
Outside, Bret opened the door of his car. “I’m going on patrol for a while, but before I go to the high school, I’m going to make a list of the kids living in the houses they’ve hit. I want to ask about their friends or any school difficulties.”
“Check my other robbery file in the squad room. I started one a few weeks ago.” Tom got into his car, and minutes later, pulled away from the lot.
Bret did the same, turning his car toward Stuart Road for a quick pass before performing his usual morning patrol route. Hopefully, he’d be allowed to work with Mr. Spring. He had a good rapport with the man, so they wouldn’t waste any time developing a working relationship. For a second, his mind tumbled to Meg—after all, she taught at the high school, too—but she was a relatively new teacher in comparison to some of the others there. He could rest comfortable in the thought that she probably wouldn’t be the teacher assigned. The thought caused regret and relief, leaving him out of sorts for the rest of the morning.
“You want me to do what?” Meg slid forward in her chair opposite the principal’s desk, feeling like a truant student.
Nathan Marsh leaned back in his chair, one hand stroking the full, red beard. “I want you to work with the police department. They will be sending a representative over to get acquainted with our students. I want you to help him.”
“Why me?” She had more than enough to do what with coaching debate, supervising Saturday school for detention and absence make-ups, and advising the sophomore class.
“The students like you. They talk to you. You hear things, in other words. I think you have a better handle on what the police will want to know. Is this a problem?”
“Does this have to be handled at school?” The rampant talk about the students’ social lives was enough of a distraction without adding a police presence to be gossiped about, too.
“I don’t believe it hurts to have them here. It’s only one officer and it may help solve the situation, for the students who were victims, their families, and the community. Will you do it?”
She sighed, mentally shuffling her workload and her attitude. “Yes, I’ll do it. Do you know who the police officer is?” If it was Tom, she could probably work that out on family time instead of work time. It probably wouldn’t be. It would probably be Sgt. Hallam, a middle-aged man with a wife and three junior high-aged kids.
“They didn’t say, but he’ll be here during your lunch break. Meet me here in my office.” Mr. Marsh rose, dismissing her.
Meg left his office. After listening to the conversation at Sunday dinner, she realized how many people had been affected by the robberies. If someone at school was involved, no one was talking. Because Mr. Marsh had one thing right—students talked to her. She heard things. Maybe because she was closer to their age, or because her classes were popular, or because she’d been a member of the community all her life. Knowing family histories helped break down barriers. She was up for the task.
Too bad she’d have to work with Hallam and not Bret. That would be an opportunity that would call for a rearrangement of her schedule.
Meg smothered a laugh, a thrill shooting through her. Stopping for a moment, she leaned against a locker in the empty hallway, reliving that moment in her grandmother’s kitchen yesterday.
How had she found the nerve to kiss him again? She could attribute the first time to being drunk, but the second time she was sober. Hung over, yes, but she certainly knew what she was doing. Never one to be the pursuer in a relationship, this was uncharted territory for her—territory she wasn’t sure Bret appreciated. He was such an enigma, but she was determined to orchestrate another meeting. As combustible as their kisses had been, they would be stupid to walk away from each other.
She had to convince Bret to give her a chance, and she was determined to help the police find the high school-aged robbers. The latter would surely be easier than the former.
Bret stopped his police car next to Meg’s mustang. He wanted to park on the other end of the building—as far from reminders of her as possible—but that would’ve been plain absurd. It was further to the main door from there. Going to such lengths to avoid her car would be a good indication that he’d lost his willpower.
He rubbed the back of his neck, easing the tension. The woman had him running, something he never did. He was never emotionally involved enough for it to matter. What the hell was wrong with him?
He took his notebook containing the list of students whose homes had been robbed and got out of the car. Inside he went to the principal’s office.
Nathan Marsh was a large man with a stern face, but a ready smile and a bright red beard that reminded Bret of a pirate. After introductions, the man got right down to business.
“I think I’ve tapped the perfect teacher to help in your investigation.”
“Good. I have lots of questions.” Bret paused when there was a knock on the door.
“That will be her.” Mr. Marsh rose and answered the door.
Meg Applegate gave him a big smile. He barely stifled a groan.
Was the man kidding?
Why choose Meg?
She sat in the chair next to him and gave him a quiet hello. The sparkle of attraction, the damn smell of her was enough to cause an overload. He turned his eyes to the principal to avoid the landmine of emotions that exploded every time he saw her.
Mr. Marsh eased his considerable weight into his chair. He must have recognized the dubious expression on Bret’s face, because he offered an explanation without any prompt. “Meg works with a lot of the students—in debate, as sophomore class advisor. They like her. She has a better idea of the groups they hang out with than I do, or anyone else for that matter. If you don’t need anything from me, I’ll leave it to the two of you to figure out how you want to proceed. I explained to Chief Hudson that this courtesy can only go so far without having to tell the parents, but the school board has already authorized police interaction on an as-necessary basis on school property. I think we can make that work for a bit.”
Bret eased back in his chair, forcing himself to relax. “I understand. I’d like to say we have a good idea what we’re dealing with here, but we don’t. The only thing we know for certain is that high school students are involved.”
“I’d like to defend my students by saying that they’re the best, but the number of problem students that come through my door would make that a foolish statement.” The principal looked pointedly at Meg.
Meg shrugged. “A great many of them are the best.”
Bret looked from one to the other. “Is there a problem I need to know about?”
Meg answered before the principal could. “I don’t understand why this can’t be conducted off school grounds. These kids are here for an education and the majority of them aren’t involved.”
“I promise we will conduct as much of this investigation off school grounds and school time as possible. I can be discreet, but this is imperative. Everybody is involved. It’s affecting the entire community—a fact you should be well aware of.”
/> “Conceded,” Meg said. “I am aware of it. I’m trying to protect the hundreds of students who have nothing to do with this and who are going to get caught up in the gossip. The distractions alone will turn them away from their schoolwork. The least you can do when you come here is to wear civilian clothes.”
“Meg, that’s enough.” Mr. Marsh looked ready to launch into a lecture.
Bret studied the determination in the set of her jaw, the flash in her blue eyes. Finally, he rose. “She has a point. I can be low key. Civilian clothes it is.”
Mr. Marsh rose in his chair. “I appreciate your willingness to be discreet, Officer Cara.”
“No problem. Meg and I can take the rest of this discussion elsewhere, Mr. Marsh. Thank you for your time.” They shook hands.
Meg raised an eyebrow, and Bret realized he’d presumed that the discussion was closed. Geez. She would probably have a few pointed comments to deliver, ones that would add to the enticing flush on her cheeks—far too enticing for comfort. She got to her feet, saying goodbye to Mr. Marsh.
Bret followed her from the office and stopped in the hall. The noise from the cafeteria echoed down the hall. The smell of hamburgers and grease permeated the air. Several teachers and students passed, giving them curious glances.
Those damn kisses sat between them, making awkward what should have been professional. His desire to avoid her warred with the needs of his job. He cleared his throat. “If you’d rather, we can meet up for dinner tonight at Clem’s.”
“Can’t. Dinner with a friend tonight.”
“Tomorrow?”
“No, I have debate practice the next three nights for a tournament on Saturday.”
Bret ground his teeth. “Friday?”
“Nope. Boo and Lindy are spending the night. Girls night.”
“I can’t put it off. We had four robberies and one act of vandalism last weekend. I need to get started.”
She smiled. “How about we start now? Let’s go to my classroom. My kids are all at lunch. We won’t be disturbed.”
Echo Falls, Texas Boxed Set Page 23
